


The Chrysamorphose

by AnikkNekoto



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hallucinations, Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 04, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal was a bad influence on Will Graham, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mind Palace, Minor Original Character(s), Morally Grey Will Graham, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Original Character(s), Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Post-Hannibal (TV) Red Dragon Arc, Post-Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 03, References to Drugs, Serial Killers, Slow Build, Somewhat Dark Will Graham, Temporary Amnesia, the mind is a dark place, will add tags as we progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26624359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnikkNekoto/pseuds/AnikkNekoto
Summary: (A Post-fall Hannibal story that centers on what could happen in a season 4 and onwards)[Note: A slow start, and very confusing lucid, dark, and murder-filled times]Only a single thought ran through the beast's head when he tore the flesh of the Dragon..."...beautiful..."He has survived his becoming. He has ripped through his crystal membrane. He has been bathed anew by the crimson rain. Now, he was entangled by connection and crime, by crime and punishment. The darkness had encroached onto them in their fall. It was a dark abyss, Will, can never escape. From the flames of inferno, and every single mental lock, broken and shattered. The beast finally escaped its cage. Not even in death would they ever part, for when he crawled out of the abyss, something else came with him.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. Becoming Crimson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still so heartbroken over the fact that the series got canceled after season 3 😭😢 So this is my fantasy to mend my heart Lol. 
> 
> The first chapter is just the beginning and more so an intro than a full on chapter. It revolves around the ending of the episode "Wrath of the Lamb."
> 
> (Summary was in part inspired by the title of the novel "Crime and Punishment" by Fyodor Dostoevsky)  
> [ "Chrysamorphose" = Chrysalis + Metamorphose (You get something entirely new ;D) ]
> 
> Hope ye enjoy the read. (^_^)/

****** 1 ******

_ Soft.  _ That is what I thought. 

Dark glistening red strings swam alongside my thin, battle-hardened digits, wrapping under and over them. The red flow was everywhere, nestled between my fingers, painted into each of my hair follicles of dark chocolate. The fluid was alive and as free as eagles soaring through the skies. It was a deeper red with stories behind it that I could arguably describe like a beautiful musical, the uniqueness of a bird of song, or the pleasant twangs of fingers tapping along the keys of a harpsichord. But even then, I could not give it enough justice. The thin red lines etched upwards my arms so marvelously, even under the darkness of night the crimson looked ablaze as the setting sun at dusk — a red finer than rubies. The drying crimson perfumed my whole body: my face, my torso, my arms, my hands, my legs, my feet. Everything was all dyed in the image of the liquid ruby. 

I tightened my grip on the shine of a silver blade laced with crimson streaks, it ached to be useful. I should feel horror and appalled, and yet I didn't.  _ I want more. _ Reflected silver began to peer through the clouds above me, it glittered onto the blade. A natural satellite fully opened as the all-seeing eye it was. The coating liquid on the metal turned almost obsidian to me like an angel descending to hell. Curiosity won me over as I fiddled with the blade in hand as dark as shadows with still a bit of the crimson poking through. It was as if the blade absorbed the very moonlight that drenched us in silver. I observed the reflection in that darkened black blade, and there were streaks and large patches of crimson that I knew didn't all belong to me. Everything else did though: the dark hunger in those stormy eyes, toothed grin white as snow and sharp as fangs, a predator's prowling shadow. I saw in that blade something almost entirely unrecognizable to me. Though the sight should have chilled me to horror, instead I felt an odd purr of satisfaction, like a tensed string finally released of its pressure. Everything. There. Was... Me.

Trembles crept into my eyes and I didn't exactly know whether it was from fear or anxiety, or perhaps something else far more dark and menacing. And I didn't know whether the feeling was good or bad as it felt like a cloudy fog had settled in my brain, an alluring thing that entices one to simply follow and explore. I turned my head back downwards to look at the stained steel, within its hypnotic gleam came the dark whispers from the fog beckoning me to go further, to drown in my instincts. I continued to stare as silver ignited those gray-blue orbs, but rather than orbs, they were narrow as the slits of a cobra's eyes, an apex's eyes. 

The myths do tell of transformations occurring under the power of a full circle, perhaps, that is my design. The moonlight is a magnificent thing, and I had always been the kind that prefers the wilds, especially the surrealness of night. The night is when whispers leave louder trails, and my senses seem to become further heightened that I thought I could even hear the rapid tremble of my enemy's central organ. I focused my eyes forward, watching with narrowed eyes at my enemy's crimson that flowed and flowed and filled my nostrils with every sweet drop. My senses were so heightened that I could pick up the tang of a dark, metallic, woody, and rich aroma that was almost too overwhelming. But I craved more. The growing beast inside relished to tear and rip more crimson lines from his veins, to taste the ruby temptation, to be given freedom. Given my mirror's far more superior olfactory senses, I wondered if he too felt this beastly hunger. So powerful it was that it could drive one mad. Perhaps, my mirror did sense this more strongly than I did. If I could, then maybe I can more easily be without care and find relief for these darker urges. And perhaps, I envy that maddening sense a little.

_ THUD-THUD-THUD— _ The drone in my chest pounded against its ribbed cage. The moon illuminated what I couldn't see before, a beautiful dance of crimson ribbons when I swiped my blade as my claws. I basked under the red rain. As our enemy pitifully stumbled back, I could just see my mirror's shadow slink from the darkness behind him. His steps were as silent as the night, and his movements just as nimble and precise as a leopard. He is my opposite, someone who compliments me, and I, him. He bared his far sharper fangs at our enemy — our prey — and draws his steel axe out with the intent to gorge the remaining life out. 

Right before the crimson beast could try to inflict more damage to me, his axe swung down. The power behind the steel was larger, more refined, more experienced, and — at the moment — far deadlier than it would be in my hands. I was like a cub in the awe of his mightier image. A lion's mane that relished in the decorating fluid life of fresh-kill. As horrifying of a being, he may sound and be, I couldn't help but be in the revelry of him as my eyes were completely mesmerized. The moon's silver bounced so perfectly off of his golden hair streaked with thin ash. I thought it impossible, but the slight tinge of another's crimson dazzling through his golden locks made him look even more otherworldly than he already did. I found that my eyes couldn't be torn away, they were stuck like glue. His gleaming teeth and fluid gashes enticed gurgling from the prey's teeth that sputtered crimson in a stream. He was a god taking his sacrifice; the lambs slaughtered in his name. 

_ SWISH-SWISH-SWISH— _ The visceral image of flowing strings of life gushed forth from such flawless work. The clang of steel streaked along the cement and brick floor as it entered into flesh. Another watered gurgle chokes itself down in the crimson beast's grisly throat as he struggles from crushed air, but it crawled more like a squeak. The more the prey tried to cough the blood pooling from his lips out, the darker and finer the crimson seemed to become, like cut rubies. I raptured at the sight, my eyes glowing at the parting of bruised flesh and sniped skin oozing richness. The red that was freed by him; the ligaments, muscles, and tendons of the prey's knee were maimed like a butcher to a pig. I fathomed that he may never be able to walk again after this....well he may never get the chance to. A god was drenching himself in the mystical dance of ribbons as vibrant as rubies. There is no escape from him.

The beast's unsightly roar of pain and anger took me away from the art being performed. Slowly drawn away from his mesmerizing form, I stumbled back slightly, a small crack in the cement having caught my foot. The scratches from small pebbles coated my palms in the metallic scent. I quickly pulled back from the crimson beast's failed retaliations at connecting fists to my jaw. I stood my ground low to the floor in a position like a cat ready to pounce. As I regained my bearings, maroon eyes found my own, and beneath the dreamy light, they glowed like a moon of blood. Our eyes locked in a knowing passion. I only needed a silent look from him to understand, and I intended to offer it to my god. 

A blurred figure remained as he moved so quickly, bleeding into the darkness like the shadows themselves. The signal was his arms, deceptively slim but powerful limbs that wrapped around our prey's neck, wringing it like a snake choking a mouse. I obediently followed his lead and leaped to action, springs in my feet in a wild rush forward. It was as if all my senses had become blindly infatuated by the scent of our prey's growing iron puddles. I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself anymore; I am far past the point of no return.... _ but maybe that's just fine. _

My hands moved in time with his, spurged by instincts, our movements melded together like a masterful conductor to an orchestra. My blade and my mirror's crushing jaw sang in unison. My mirror bared his fang-like teeth and tore into our prey's neck at the same time as I worked my blade. He bit through the bowels of our prey's windpipe, crushing and devouring it, while I continued to slice open his stomach. Together we are like a composition that has finally been completed. He and I can both appreciate the waterfall of crimson that spilled from his neck and stomach from different angles in the same perspective.

The blade was drawn so precisely to the front of his vulnerable and exposed underside. 

_ Soft. _ I thought again. 

I didn't hesitate for even a second when I glided the dark silver blade across the fragile layers of skin and muscle from left to right, something that would have been unfathomable to me before. I could feel the heat of blood. The ease of the slice like he was just water, but hot and searing like fresh bread from the oven, so crisp and easy to cut through. The gurgling chokes rose higher in a symphony. I could hear faint and fainter echoes — a man in agony. My blade steadily became completely covered by the prey's iron-rich fluid. It fills me with satisfaction at every second that the silver inched towards the right, freeing more and more of that trapped aromatic liquid. The luscious dark contents were freed for the two of us to revel in its fine rustic scent. 

One final snap and I tore the blade away, leaving behind in my savage wake his vulnerable underbelly exposed and unable to hold any of the organs back. 

A glance up, and I saw that he too tore our prey's neck out, taking with him a deliciously large portion of skin and muscle. I leaped back first, with five fingers tapping along the floor and my back arched in the stance of a predatory animal, reminiscent of a lion ready to give chase, and blade held forward and ready to lunge and maul again. 

As I cautiously eyed the beast of crimson, I slowly peered past his figure to observe the locks of gold just behind him. My mirror's angular white teeth were still tearing at the fat of muscle he had claimed for himself. The sight of him filled me with an unknown sensation of burning that I wasn't so sure I should continue exploring. But the lion and his deadly red eyes were entirely focused on me even as he loomed over the dying crimson beast as if the man was just a slab of meat and no longer worth his attention. Most would be unable to understand the mask he always carried, but I could. 

My gift and curse have an affinity for darkness, especially his. Not even the seemingly unnatural crimson tint in his eyes could unnerve me. But right now, he seemed to have purposefully dropped all his masks.

Once he locked with my eyes, those gleaming maroon orbs immediately changed and seemed to fill with something else, pride, and everything laid bare to me. His steely eyes were still there, but the riveting waves within those crimson tinted maroon orbs were all I needed to know him. I felt the floodgates open up inside of me, washing me over with a relieving coolness. His darkness pulled at me to go under with him. And I think I wished to follow...

I slowly turned my focus back onto the gushing life in front of us, watching with glowing gray-blue eyes at the marvelous downfall of dark rain. The world began to feel as if it was in slow-mo as I continued to watch as the prey's eyes gradually dulled, and his knees gave way and cracked onto the stone floor. The last bit of his strength finally dissipated. For the final time, his back arched with extended red winglike creations in the last hurrah. They shattered so easily like fragile glass, and he fell forward with roasted wings flashing in finality under the silver light. Burnt and torn asunder into the nothingness like the rest of his escaping blood. 

His body thudded with a swerve onto his back and a sickening flop right into a red pool of his own making. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his lifeless body, much like how I couldn't help myself from watching  _ his _ theatrical performance. The dead man's dark eyes now gray and dull, and the last of his crimson continued to flow out of him, spiraling and curling in various patterns onto the floor in a hauntingly beautiful rendition of his broken wings.  _ I did that. _ I thought.  _ We did that. _ The vicious inner growl of triumph applauded me for exposing his innards for all the world to see. Right now, this was a beautifully rich sight only for the two of us to share.

My hands shook as I slowly lifted it to my right to my eyes, it seemed so foreign to me. It itched for more. Silver lit blood oozed like obsidian with the dead one's lost life trickling all over my hands. The dark magma sent a noticeable shiver down my spine, its texture, its smell, and its iron-rich color poured all over my senses. Every sense of it was forever recorded into a book in my inner library. They wouldn't be nightmares, but rather pleasant dreams of being wrapped within its intoxicating scent.

"...It really does look black in the moonlight," I commented as I glanced back at him, searching for him. I was seeking something, perhaps acknowledgment, but that was too simple of a word to encompass all that I've felt.

The stillness chilled colder, but his eyes remained a fire when he returned my gaze. Slowly, the butterflies flew inside of me as I found only a proud smile of reassurance on his facial features. I shifted my head up to him as worshippers to their god. His curved smile pleased, and his hand extended to me. I took it. He hauled me up to my feet, and I now finally stood face to face with him — as his equal.

"See. This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us." His maroon spiked with blood eyes stared straight into my stormy blues. Even though I was the empath, it felt as if he could see through my everything and right down to the depths of my soul — my truest form of self that relished in these urges. And in turn, I can see him right down to the darkest seals of his depraved depths.

Shakily but determined, I leveled my gaze with him, fully intent on reciprocating his heartfelt sentiment. I stared straight back into his darkness, something that anyone else would be too horrified to see so clearly, and reciprocated it. I see him, truly see him and I wanted him to know that so he may discern truth and lies in them. 

"It's...beautiful..." I said, finally. A flicker in his eyes was too quick to be noticeable to anyone else, but I was looking for that exactly. I could tell that he instantly understood me, even with such a simple phrase from my mouth.  _ Has anyone else ever truly understood me as he did?... No. _

As the clouds overhead began to hide away the treasured moon, time slowed once more as I began to feel the effects of my receding adrenaline high. I lowered my head testingly, resting against his stronger shoulders. I was so tired now, but he continued to stand tall and proud and did not pull away. Feeling bolder, I weaved my arms around his shoulders to seek out more support and safety in him. I was like a newborn that had been too stimulated and needed a place of rest, and that place was  _ here.  _

I know that being completely entangled with him and that now it will be difficult to cut myself loose. This darkness is destructive to all those who come near us.  _ I can't live with him. I can't live without him.  _ Mind finally made up, I slowly shifted my feet towards the edge of the cliff, pushing him along. He shuffled with me, indulging me and caving to my wish. I could see my reflection in his eyes.... stormy blues tinged with water that threatened to fall over. And in his own eyes.... adoration would be the best description of what I saw directed at me. I paused slightly to look a bit longer, taking the perspective in his eyes and basking in the small warmth of dark chocolate curls that I held through his arms one more time. The love I felt through him directed only at the smaller in front of him was excruciatingly painful. It was the final torture to my psyche. 

_ Forgive me.  _ I said silently. 

Then, with a final step, I felt the wind like a hurricane, sharp threads streaked past my face and lithe body through each follicle of my hair. I wanted this to hurt me, for me having to hurt him. But strong arms and legs wrapped around me the moment our feet left the ground, they were a warm blanket on the coldest night of the year, and they refused to allow me to discomfort myself.

"There's nothing to forgive."  _ Ah... _ To hear his accepting voice was a craving I never realized I had missed so dearly. I must have said those words aloud unknowingly. Even the torrent of wind couldn't entirely block his voice from me.

The salted air caressed our faces and bloodied clothing. Gravity dragged us down with a whirlwind. The sound of the waves crashing below us rang louder and louder, far louder than any siren or alarm. A swirl plump, then the waving waters engulfed and ate us both. The salty tang filled every bud on my tongue and lungs.  _ There's finally an end to this... _ I absently thought. This was a promise to myself even as the cool unfeeling gray waters devoured us both in raging waters. My hands were still clutched so very tightly around his warm body. The indifference of the ocean embraced us as we depth further down together. We fell into the darkness of the ocean's watery vastness.  _ And maybe... that is fine... _

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .?**

~•●⚪●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story is going to start out really slow, and I am going to try my best to keep every character in canon as much as possible. Heavily inspired by the Hannibal TV series, Silence of the Lamb movie version, and by Bryan Fuller's various comments and interviews on what a season 4 and onwards may look and feel like to him.
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> \- Cya next time (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	2. Deep Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (And so we continue on from a weird intro...)
> 
> "Someone fished up something interesting."

****** 2 ******

.

.

.

.

.

. 

"....L"

  
  


_ A voice?... _

  
  


"W...." A low voice scratched roughly like nails gritting across a chalkboard. 

  
  


The encroaching swish of angry waves of a deep, watery baritone. Drizzled pitter-patters tap along my skin from the dewed air around me, following the voice's reassurance of its presence. It sounded oddly pleasant but rasped with a lingering danger beneath it.

  
  


"....ill" The voice murmured again, but I couldn't quite clearly catch what it said. 

  
  


The cold darkness of the closed window to my soul was all I saw and felt. The dense air orbiting me felt as though weighed down by the water. But that wasn't all, a metallic coppery scent swept the cool fog and filled my nostrils. 

The pressure of the darkness plunged me deeper than any trench of the Marianas. The dark, hallowing thumps pounded through my ears. A weight of tons batted my ribbed cage. Doomed drums beating the rattles of a stalking snake. As the predator the dark truly was, its song coiled around my body, choking me. It was as if I could hear its blood-curling hisses dripped and laced with deadly poison, my insides melted by its corrosive nature.

My eyes flicked open, and I vigorously shook my head from the onslaught of horrific imagery plaguing me. I perked my ears towards the slow rise of eerie croaks and the ghostly wind. My vision was still obscured by the lightless dark. 

I could only rely on my other senses. I felt the chilly air tap along the apical of my skin, almost like in mockery of a comforting embrace, though something else seemed to be here; it was slightly warmer: something chillingly dark, something as dark as blood, something alive but cold, and something colder than snake scales. I couldn’t move while within its frigid glare. I could barely curl a finger.

"Wil....ill...." The unknown voice spoke again. A cracked hush, thickened in thorns and brambles. But, the trembling octaves seemed.... _ familiar? _

"Hello?" 

I never receive an answer...

The wind suddenly grew violent, screams of split air molecules blaring crackles in rising thunder thudding into my eardrums. Wisping dried air swooped and swirled along with the heat of my goosebumps-ridden skin. My arms over my head to protect myself. 

I think that I felt....  _ a hand? _

Something gentle seemed to have hovered lightly and brushed some individual strands of hair from my cowered face, one by one, in a slow-motion attempting to wipe away my growing fear of an unknown. As it did, the wind grew quiet. And the heavyweight pushing on my ribbed cage slowly lifted back up. I finally felt a steady flow of air enters my lungs. My eyes instantly fluttered back open, but I was still only greeted by more darkness—a cold, drizzled pitch. Even though I extended my hands forward, searching, that gentle presence seemed to have already gone.

Faint echoes of ghostly droplets and an eerie wind blanketed my senses. My heart thudded and thumped in alarm. I snapped and tossed my head all around, fidgeting eyes glancing everywhere I could think to look. But I could still barely see. There was no other warmth near me. The confusion escalated and whirled my brain, cooking it. The voice just suddenly disappeared, vanished into thin air like a ghost, leaving me alone in the lonely and maddeningly cold darkness. 

The darkness felt alive, felt crawly as it embraced my body in its emptiness. My sanity slowly dissociated from me. And quickly, the well inside me eventually boiled-over. I slammed my hands downward as I placed them forward to the cracked stone floor and tried to feel for _anything! Something!?_ _Anyone?...._ But only dripping sounds of water answered me back in echoes from the foul rot of the abyss. 

_ Let me out of here!  _ My internal cry for help...  _ Someone?! _ ....  _ please? _ ....

Drip-Drop-Drips bounced from wall to wall in snaking pitter-patters through what sounded and felt to be vacant and long winding tunnels. The longer the natural silence stretched, the more I believed that gentle touch was simply a figment of my imagination, simply a clue of insanity, and a cruel reality.

_ I thought my encephalitis was cured... _

A slight draft wafted a musky tingle through my nostrils and my jumpy skin as I steeled myself and blindly felt my way through by touch. Sharp stones and cracked walls, but narrowed openings scraped off my skin. But I persisted, relentless in my search for an exit until the trickle of iron fluid released itself from my scraped palms. I froze in place as the scent of a sharp crimson tang finally pulled my focus. The pain tingling from the tips of my finger to my brain.

_ This can't be real... _

The floor of the damp tunnels laced itself with my metallic liquid. But I trudged on. The darkness felt darker, and the cold felt colder with every movement I forced forward, despite my increasing wounds. A sharp tangy scent soon joined my crimson in the air. It was almost like a natural-like mixture: a forest filled with a smokey fire, sprouting seedlings spreading their wings, damped earth, and moss, and fungi feasting on rotting wood. The contrast of destruction and creation stung my nostrils with its almost practical nature — a natural food chain.

The slight draft soon shifted into a stormy sea that I could taste the salty minerals on my buds. The hair on my skin perked with a chilled shiver. I instantly stood defensively and kept my body a little low to the ground. Even I couldn’t explain why my own body went electric and on red alert. There was no one else here, as far as I could tell, but my body refused to relax. Instead, it pumped more and more adrenaline through my veins.

I glanced from side to side and all around, just trying to figure out what I should be wary of. Try as I did, I couldn't make out anything but more darkness, the sharpness of my eyes rendered useless by it. The gloomy shadows and wry dark tendrils seemed to be the only things crawling in here, besides me. 

But then, the skips of a small pebble alerted me first. A light pitter-tat-tat that came from behind me. The sound brought with it a dark presence, a dimmed presence, another person’s presence.

"Who's there?" I snapped around, my eyes narrowed and focused at that one point of the darkness. Both elation and anxious trembles raced my body. 

The new presented crept closer. The shallow presence somehow felt.... _familiar?_ I took a cautious step towards the origin of disturbing waves from the presence. The trap of darkness further honed my already sharp senses of smell and hearing in the absence of relying on sight. A dead silence lingered in the salted air mingled with earth and spices, but there was now with a hint of musk, and.... _rotting_ _meat?_

I gazed towards the sensation of where the presence stood, still as ice, and refused the light — it was a shadow in the dark. The presence didn't move a single step closer after those first few steps. If there was any light, I think I would see the micro-movements of eyes, speckles of red in maroon irises surrounded by a rim of greedy gold, but also paralyzingly frigid like a hawk gazing at a mouse.

I tentatively took a few more steps towards the shadowed figure, without a single hitch or tingle of pain, which was odd since my muscles and bones felt as if they’ve been through a shredder just moments ago. Somehow, I feel more at ease, here with this presence, enough so that registering my pain was placed far back in my brain. 

I slowly tried to feel my way through the dark, stumbling like a baby learning how to walk towards its parent, and abrupt bumps ached my head from running into stone walls and low rocky ceilings. Though my hands thudded palm first to feel along the walls, those low-lying ceilings always catch me off-guard. The walls felt cool but had an uncomfortably awful slime residue slicking their surfaces, almost drool-like in texture. 

I continued my slow approach to the shadowed presence. It seemed like it took two steps back every step I took toward it. I couldn't help but feel as if it were watching me as a playful lion stalking its gazelle. And as I drew closer and closer, the presence seemed to grow larger and colder. The scent lingering in the air of the tunnel became more and more familiar the closer and closer I got to the figure. Until the strike of an epiphany belled through my head—

"Han—" But my small elation's lifespan was quickly cut short.

_ CRUNCH!  _

It snapped so suddenly that all the wind was forced out of my lungs. The shadowed presence became a blurred dark, launching towards me with a heavy slam straight into my chest and ribs. I spat out obsidian blood from the sudden crash, instinctively digging my hands in, grappling with the army of shadows swiping at me when the figure lunged. The primitive sense of self-preservation took control of me. 

As I clawed, punched, and kicked, the figure's hollowness became more visible due to deep sockets beginning to glow from the places where eyes should be. With red crackling creaks and snapping teeth like a marionette, a slimy texture slid all over my arms while claws from human-like hands stabbed painfully deep into my arms.

  
  


"TIMeE TO WwAKE UpP WILlL!" 

  
  


The distorted creature bellowed with its jaw cracked and unhinged. Its voice was like rusted steel boards sliding ear-piercing squeaks. The shrieks like the dying whimpers of a dolphin. And its body was as inhuman as the shadows themselves.

My eyes met the slight glow of darkness that bled from its hollowed eyes and pale face, the terror within me surged, causing me to blink rapidly and forced the vomit of burning acid back down my throat. The nauseating pale red just barely illuminates the figure that tangled with me. Its scarred and fissured skin punctured hollowed due to so many holes. Peeled flesh uncovered the bone and squirmed with patches of segmented critters—jaundiced and decaying off of the calcium they crawled and nourished from as it snarled just inches from my face.

  
  


"WwI— WILLLL!!"

  
  


A yellowed cranium poked out from the disfigured flesh. A once-reliable nose was completely absent of cartilage and flesh, only two-slit holes remained. The familiar sharp cheekbones were so hollowed out that a slimy purplish tongue slithered freely through. There were fang-like teeth without the cover of lips that once bantered with witty quips, and flaking snow-white skin drooping from the orbitals of lightless, once beautifully maroon and crimson under sunlight, eyes, now they were muted in dull, emotionless gray. 

He reeked of burnt trees, decaying bones, rotting meat.... the finality of a grave.

Panic and pain shot up my spine as I tumbled backward from the sudden barrage. And reflex alone helped me bite back the bile melting through my esophagus from the sting of death. The dusted ground crawled all over me when I fell. My eyes locked forward in disbelief at the thing — at the missing tuffs of golden locks of hair like they were pulled out and doused in a thick black-red velvet. I could smell the growing fear coming off my skin. My beast was frightened by the decaying golden lion. 

The rubied liquid fell into the darkness that bled all around the walls as it oozed into obsidian. Waterfalls of the liquid thundered down my eardrums as the grotesque figure choked it all over his chest and chin, and then onto me. A gaping mouth popped out of sockets with exposed snapping teeth like fangs. Through his teeth sputtered a downpour of a foul vulture’s meal and spilled all over me. 

His spindly limbs pierced into my shoulders, iron nails bleeding with the same darkness pushing down on me. Clunky movements continued to snap and crackle — a human’s joints should never be able to bend and pull in those ways. Survival instincts had to take over. No longer was I the hunter, but the hunted. 

I ferociously kicked at the large figure; a distressed beast was all that I am in this surreal moment. The cracks of bone snapped under the force of my legs, but the jingle-jangle of distorted pale fleshy strings and the slush of dark red only enraged him more. He clawed even harder at my ears. I ferociously raked my nails over and over his ribbed chest, already slightly exposed. I dug my hands through the ribs, clawing and pulling at them. My nails coated layer by layer in the inky mass. My desperation slowly grew, but he still refused to budge as if bedrock. I pushed back and back at the immovable force with my sprung legs. But he refused to budge, yet again. I thrashed, and thrashed some more, headbutting my forehead right into his peeling skull, but that didn't dissuade the thing either, at all!

The flow of dark liquid grew wider as it poured down heavier from snapping popped jaws — drowning me. The liquid seeped up to my ears. I heard only clogged snaps and cracks. Twisting and turning, I splashed frantically within its dark pool, trying to keep my nose above the liquid for as long as possible. As I jerked under him, distorted growls scratched against my ears and spilled more liquid from his rigid mouth that snapped over and over again. I was drowning in his darkness. The scent of rot and metallic covered my nostrils — literally.

  
  


"WIlL. wILL. wiLL. WilL. wILl. WiIlLL!!!" 

  
  


A deep and hoarse voice filled with demons creaked through his raw throat. The distortion fell further and further into the realm of demons. The foul liquid kept pouring down from its hideous mouth with its horrifying chant of my name. The darkness's rotten and decayed heart of carcasses and earthworms would forever be etched into my inner library.

The hollow figure of a man I once knew stretched its skeleton-like limbs and wrapped them all around me, trapping me between it and the sinking ground underneath. I had very little mobility even as I spat and coughed up more of the black liquid in disgust. The thing was as heavy as stone, determined to sink me to the bottom. 

I dearly longed for this to be over...

My arms and legs were captured in a cobra's grip as his darkness swallowed me whole. 

_ I couldn't breathe... I couldn't breathe... I couldn't breathe... _

Boney tendrils reached and sunk into black stained hair. With one sharp push, my head plunged into the dark ocean waters. I bobbed back up once, but the defleshed-bones simply dragged me back down to the dark hell. 

The liquid continued to devour and devour. I could only make small bubbles of air pockets from every, struggling breath my desperate, pounding organ sought. The flaps of my lungs burned and screamed for oxygen, but that only allowed more of the inky toxin to seep further into my body. My eyes stung like the fiery pits of Dante's Inferno as the dark toxin sealed my windows shut. 

My thrashing only lost me more of my strength. It was a useless and feeble rebellion against this onslaught. The sting of lactic acid seared the flesh beneath my skin, into my very bone. I could barely lift even a single finger, much less put up any more fight. 

The darkness seeped and seeped until eventually, everything was drowned within its silence. Only muted buzzes vibrated my eardrums, the rest of the world was a dull fuzz to me. The darkness had taken everything, just like how my everything was taken before…

.

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

"Ahhhhhh!!!" 

A sound you would hear from a wounded beast. 

A guttural roar-like night terror that raked through my bloodshot eardrums. 

_ That scream was from me... _

My eyes immediately snapped open, and my throat was hoarse and severely scratched and torn. The sudden brightness stung my eyes, and it was difficult to see due to how strained and constricted my pupils were. As I was getting my bearings straight, the pain suddenly flared up from my spine that I nearly convulsed right down onto the light-brown hardwood floor. I spat up saliva and choked up salty water from my scratched throat. I hunched over my stomach with my arms curled over it to soothe the pain. 

_ Where am I?!  _

Whirling breaths huffed in and out of my haggard and cold lips. 

_ Where is this?!  _

My eyes widened further in alert and glaring uncertainty. I could smell my fear dripping down in my sweat.

I frantically looked all around this dimly lit room I seemed to have been taken to. Creaks of wood and the slush of waves thudded against the metal white walls. Small circular metal bolted windows revealed long stretches of blue to gray as I wobbled with the swaying motion. Even as I took in the seemingly normal surrounding, the tiny hairs laced all over my skin pricked with goosebumps and the need to fight-or-flight. However, I didn't seem to be in immediate danger. I searched and searched for enemies, threats to my life, but everything remained mostly still and eerie quiet. Only the creaking of wooden boards and metal pipes made me realize that I am still _ alive. _

I could hear footsteps, but none seem to realize that I have awoken. My nerves began to settle down a bit. I couldn't afford to not think and plan when in possible danger. The right side of my cheek burned, but that small pain is dull in comparison to all the questions racing through my skull. I traced my hand to my face, and a stronger sting erupted from the slight touch to what felt like soft white cloth plastered to my right cheek. Avoiding the white cloth this time, I profusely wiped away at the fear of sweat dripping down from my anxious body. My breathing evened as I calmly took in every detail of my new environment.

I shifted the white comforter off and hauled myself up from the hard sheets, steadying onto the soles of my feet. Suddenly, I felt a rushing wave of dizziness. My body swayed around and around. The dull colors bled together into one as the stronger back and forth motions of the floor and walls surrounding me, haphazardly tossed me side to side, up and down.

_ SWISH-SWISH-SWISH— _ I tripped from one side to the next side, as the harsher tug of gravity played with me like ping pong. I clutched onto the metal bars of the bed like they were my lifeline, and slowly balanced myself again while waiting for the rocking to settle a bit. Feeling a little less dizzy, the wooden floorboards creaked with every careful step I took, no matter how slow and quiet I tried to be.  _ Well.  _ It did smell a little rusty, damp, musky, and old, like decaying wood down here. There is that tang of salted air as well, a very strong and pure scent.

Nature caught me in the form of a blue-gray sky that peeked through a circular window on a white door, which seemed like the only entrance and exit from here. I took another curious, but a cautious step. One foot at a time, over each ledge of the dark wooden stairs. The spaces between each step were hollow, so it is possible to see stacks of brown boxes right behind them that are present in many storage rooms. The metal railings helped me keep my balance as the walls and floor swayed harder and harsher with raging creaks.

".....!!"

"....!!"

"......!!"

I heard several voices up there, some deep basses and baritones, and others were smoother and less gruff. The range of vocals and sounds rang through my ears. It seemed like things were busy out there. Those voices didn't sound calm at all, which was concerning, rather, they sounded more panicked and urgent.

_ SWING! _

_ CLANG!  _

I turned the metal lever. Drizzles of tiny droplets filled with salt quickly floated onto my face. The barrier of the white door no longer hid the outside world from me, but the skies seemed to dim, holding in them a wave of natural anger, not as merry as I had thought it would be.

_ SNAP-CLANG-SNAP— _ A whirl of black and silver flicked over my eyes. A cry of panic alerted two men who rushed past me. They were too busy to pay any attention to my presence. Their black-gloved hands frantically tugged back at what looked to be damp ropes that were just barely holding a dark cage of steel kept from completely toppling over. The ground seemingly swayed harder and harsher with their every tug. Gray and ominous tuffs began to block out more sun. And glancing far off towards the horizon only predicted a terrible storm to come.

"WAVE!!!" A man from above the deck hollered. My instincts screamed at me with a jump. With a snap, I lunged to the nearest handlebar on the walls of the vessel, hooking my arms tightly around it. I was confident the handle wouldn't come loose, unlike the cage did.

A large watery grave greeted me when I took a glance to the side of the boat where the man had alerted. And there it was, a large wave almost twice the size of the boat. Without mercy, the vicious water rammed us like a charging elephant. My head thudded, was dunked, and submerged by the unrelenting force of nature. 

The taste of salt stung my lungs and breathing tubes, even when I closed my eyes and mouth. The flow of water eventually washed away to reveal wanted air. Rapidly, I blinked the salt from my eyes and scanned my surroundings again: heavy equipment, hooks with many sharp edges, cages filled with reddish-brown long-limbed creatures, people in rubber and water-proof gear, a medium-sized boat. I then glanced back towards the empty, hollow ocean.  _ There probably wouldn't be any ships out there to help us in miles...  _ The monster that was the ocean is hungry. It waved its growls from gaped gray waters, swirls like the teeth of a beast. __

Still a bit disoriented, I gripped the metal handle harder to keep myself from falling over and joining the watery beast below. I held on for dear life. The large figures of others rattled and raced over and across the deck of the large boat. Their broad shoulders contracted their muscles as the wooden boards creaked with every thud of their heavy boots. Metal gears squeaked in time with the unrelenting waves. But then, a glint of steel caught the corner of my eyes, a hook that was untethered and dangerously whipped loose by the constant ram from waves. If it comes completely loose, then right in its way would be a young male, who looked no more than twenty or so. He was doe-eyed, while my own eyes widened.

_ SNAP! _

My legs were already sprinting before my brain could catch up. I had almost stumbled over, but managed to barrel right into a tackle, and shoved the young man down to the floor with a bruising arm. A second later, and a steel hook shot just over our heads, grazing just a part of my ragged collared shirt. My heart thumped with adrenaline in my veins.  _ We got to move! _ I yanked the young man with me as I dragged him away from the heavy cranes and creaking machines. The high coursing through my veins made that easier. Just as we scampered away, the crane finally broke from its bolts and went tumbling right onto the same spot we just fled from.

The young man looked at me stiffly after the carnage he very nearly met his end from. His wide leafy and beady eyes glistened from clear shock and fear. "T-thank you...." he stammered, thin, lanky arms flailing skittishly as he looked as if he didn't know where to put them. 

I gave him a simple reassuring nod, but his grip remained just a tad bit too tight on my arm. He was understandably shaken so...

"You alright?!" A frantic call came from an older man who looked to have several decades of experience. He had a graying beard, trained muscles despite his elder age, and a full black waterproof rubber suit and gloves. "Sorry to pull you in so suddenly, young man, but if you are okay, could you help us out a bit?" The elder man said as he wrapped a hook and rope through a tarp and over a cage. Even with five of them, the cages were dangerously close to being torn right back off the deck, and would most certainly wreak havoc if they did. 

The situation called for it, so I nodded quickly. I turned my eyes back towards the young man in silent question of whether or not he's alright. When he looked up at me, I could see eyes that still held a fearful reluctance, and due to it, I sensed the need to put him at ease. I saw his eyes and couldn't help but see the familiarity of someone else.

I gently grabbed the top of his hand and laid my other under his palm to ground him to reality. He already seemed calmer. Well, as calm as you could be from almost being skewered. The physical contact seemed to work as comfort. The young man's dark black hair was soaked in sweat and salty waves and plastered to the sides of his temples. But otherwise, he looked for better or worse.

He swallowed back a bit of his fear, and gave me a fairly certain look, nodding this time. 

I ran slow but with purpose, making sure he was steady as we trudged towards the older man. The elder man quickly passed us some rope and ordered us to secure the cage to parts of the boat that can't be lifted off. We pulled and twisted it, twirled and wrapped it.

"Alright, good job!" The older gentleman's encouraging voice gave off a similarly fatherly-like feeling, something I wished I had while growing up. 

The young man next to me seemed to be in a drastically better place, especially after the elder man's praise. Compared to his earlier skittishness, he almost seemed like a different person. Like a duckling that has imprinted on its parent.

As we finished tightening the ropes, a gruff voice yelled: "Who was in charge of tying this down earlier?!" A tall, dark short-haired man let his frustration and anger be known. He was an intimidatingly toned, beefy, and unhinged man. Eyebrows furrowed in a permanent scowl with the bottom of his lips blistered as he had just been in a fight. You also don't need to be an empath to know that he was a hot-tempered man with a short fuse, so it was very likely. This man was menacing. Though, he looked to still be pretty young, about the early thirties or so.

The dark-haired and angry man strode right up to me with a deeper scowl than I thought possible. 

"Wasn't it him?!" 

An accusing finger was pointed at the younger man at my side. Almost immediately, a sour and foul taste filled my buds.  _ How rude. _

"What the hell are you even doing here, huh?" The larger man shoved the young man, using his bigger size and broader shoulders to his advantage. While my eyes silently burned at this man's aggressions, and the already quiet young man seemed even more recluse. "Can't even do a simple job," he spat. "Best run back to mommy, little man." 

I quickly shoved myself between the older and the younger. My eyes trained on him, a panther ready to strike. I was barely able to keep the dark urge inside me at bay.

_ Righteous urges. _

"Who. the. fuck. are. You?!" His breath was toxic, and he spat with a disgusting fishy scent. "Get outta my way!"

_ It _ itched, but before my knuckles could impulsively taste his iron-rich blood, the gray-bearded man grabbed the angry man's shoulder and roughly yanked him back.

"Shut the hell up, Curtis! Instead of wasting everyone's time, why don't you go do your job?" The older gent shot the man a glare, then tossed him back, leaving no room for a retort. 

The dark-haired man visibly twitched as he stumbled backward. His lip seemed to have been cut, his hand rubbing the trickle of blood away. He slowly backed away, seeming to be quite fearful of the older man. 

There was a sense of respect that twinkled in the dark-haired man's glaring eyes. Luckily, albeit reluctantly, the man did back down, but not without spitting on my shoe in one last gesture of spite. I eyed the liquid in silent disgust. My poker face still prevailed, though the boil inside me said anything but. The rude man slinked off with a grumble, closely followed by another man an inch shorter and in his thirties or so as well.

"Alright! Buckle down the rest of the boat! The storm ain't over, the worst is coming." He ordered the rest of the crew, who had gone silent to observe what was none of their business. They slowly turned away and resumed their jobs, but some seemed to huff in minor disappointment.

"Sorry bout him," the older man then turned and apologized to me. There was a younger blonde-haired man, who seemed to be around my age, next to the gray-beard man. 

He had been respectful so far and seemed reliable enough. 

"We can't do proper introductions right now, but we can after this." The elder man, with a graying beard and quite muscular arms for a man of his age, sent a silent glance towards the blonde younger man. Flecks of gold flicker over thin eyebrows as the younger man courteously nodded back. There seemed to be an understanding between the two of them, but I couldn't quite figure out what exactly.

"I know you're injured," the elder man continued, "and you must have many questions, but for now, would you lend us a hand?" 

It was true that I remembered almost nothing about how I ended up here. "Yes." I gave a nod. Only a name to my face and bits of an old past still barely clung to the nerve connections within my brain.  _ Perhaps I may gain a mutual benefit of sorts. _

The older man nodded with a beaming smile, then stepped a bit closer to my ear, obviously intending for only me to hear. "Thank you....for helping the lad." His eyes rolled over towards the timid and frightened young man next to me. 

_ Noted. _

The elder man's eyes didn't seem as steely as before, in fact, they softened up a bit, seeming tired and glassy. 

I gave a quick nod of understanding. 

Just as quickly, the elder man stepped back, trusting. He gave a hard pat on my shoulder as he left, striding away. He radiated charisma and confidence, the tiredness from early expertly covered up. He headed towards a group of men who looked like they needed some help in keeping a very large cage from snapping right off of the deck.

"So, new guy." The blonde man who remained — most likely in his mid-thirties — grabbed my attention. He donned an orange waterproof rubber suit with his hair reigned in by a tight man bun. His frame was thin but lean, hiding muscles from several years of experience out in the open waters. 

"Harrison wants me to help guide you two a bit, Harrison was that older gentleman, by the way. He is the most experienced member on our boat, second is the captain." His voice was cheery despite the gray mood that marked the rest of the boat. "Now, especially since Aidan is fairly young and very new to fishing, I need you guys to follow me closely." He navigated us through the boat made like a maze due to all of the equipment. The young man timidly followed behind me. We've had to grab onto the side railings or walls many times as the boat continued to be batted around by God's whims.

"Grab this, right here." The blonde raised his voice over the bellowing rain. He pointed to a rope leading down into the water's deep. "The three of us need to haul this cage out to prepare for the storm. Otherwise, the storm will tear it apart, and we would need to replace the expensive equipment." The young man, Aidan, nodded and quickly grabbed the rope from behind me. I grabbed onto the rope from in front of him, being the buffer between him and the ocean. Then the blonde man stepped in front of me and grabbed the rope; he was our buffer. 

"Pull!" The man huffed.

The waves zigged violently as we pulled together. The boat knocked and rocked with the dark, gray depths. My feet dug into the floor, and my balance barely hung on. The young man behind me stumbled several times, but determination seemed to push him to quickly get back up. Although he had a lithe body and was what you would describe scrawny and weak looking, I could see his eyes weren't. I thought it was admirable.

Frantic yells echoed throughout the deck. The waves grew hungrier and hungrier. We had to pull harder as the waters threatened to pull us down in return.....the swirling water was mesmerizing.

  
  


Gray water poured out from the cage, but it seemed to bleed... Gray swirls turned into velvet. And velvet then turned into rotting obsidian. 

The darkness creaked, and a voice slithered from its black depths.

"..ill....."

The darkness croaked with another crippling screech. 

The waves grew silent right after. The rope between my fingers suddenly went aflame and burned my palms. But, for some reason, I couldn't let it go. I yanked and yanked, but the rope itself seemed to dig into my skin. I snapped my gaze down at my hands... It wasn't rope.... a glistening tube of pulsing red, oozing pink flesh grinned up at me. Liquid iron gushed into my hands. I shook and shook my hands to be freed, but the tube wouldn't allow me to leave. It coiled around my wrist like a boa constrictor.

A voice wafts up from over the lonely black cage in the water. I gazed at it while spikes of trembling fear shot up through my body. What laid inside of that cage were bones.... crawling skeletons with soulless eyes. Whether it was from horror or something else, I didn't know nor understood, I just knew it would be dangerous to get any closer.

The waves quickly transformed into a dark goop. Black tendrils shot up like the living dead and converged onto the boat. They started to chisel into some sort of grisly shape... They were white slimy finger-like things first. Then, a fleshless arm emerged from the flesh. And finally, a hollowed face stared back at me.

"WILL!" An angry howl that sounded like it came from an abyss filled with demons. A large black wave crashed straight onto the deck and us.

  
  


My body jerked under another sudden wave of water. I closed my eyes shut from both fear and the painful sting of salted water. I wretched the gray liquid from my orifices, expelling with forceful coughs. I snapped my eyes downward and saw that the fleshy tube wasn't there. I was holding onto a very  _ normal  _ rope. 

"Alright, pull!" I quickly blinked the trembles from my vision away at the man's order. The familiar blonde man yelled again from closest to the water. His erratic voice cleared away my thoughts to focus on the present.

My muscles all contracted together with a powered pull tug with all the force I could muster. The rope tensed behind me, and with the three of us, we were able to haul the cage right out of the water and onto the boat. 

"Whooo nice!" The blonde man praised. "Quickly! Bunker this down now and head to the other cages." I nodded at him. And we spent a considerable amount of time prepping the vessel for the storm that will soon rage. By the time we were done, the mess hall was full of tired fishermen, and every single muscle in my body screamed for sleep.

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


"Good work today!" The older man called Harrison heartedly cheered. His tone intended to lighten the mood. In one of his hands was a copper mug filled with beer, and the other was gesturing around as he told stories of his wide experiences at sea. The storm was at full force out there by now, so we had to take refuge inside the lower levels and sleeping quarters of the fishing vessel. Though right now, most of the crew seemed to be having fun being reckless drinkers in the mess hall.

"Here! Here!" The fairly large crew drank merrily.

I sat opposite to the crowd, quiet and content in one of the four corners with a full glass of water. I desired no attention. The young man I saved was also sitting right next to me, but since he was quiet and quite respectful I didn't mind his presence. And he seemed content to just sit there, observing space, it seems

"Nolan," came the voice from a man with blonde hair. His figure approached us as he stepped through the rowdy crowd and sat on the bench directly in front of me. He was the same person who helped Aidan and me earlier. I may be a great fisherman, but fishing this far out in open and turbulent waters was quite different. "Terribly rude of me not to have introduced myself earlier, though it was a bit of an emergency." His smile was charming; he must have had many chances to practice.

"Will." I returned his gesture. My hand extended to him and he shook it with a gleam.  _ Better to keep as little information about me known. _

"I know." The blonde man politely smiled. "Harrison already introduced you to the whole crew earlier, before he started drinking away, that is. But, it's nice to be officially meeting you, Will." He took a casual sip from his mug. "I've got ten years of experience as a fisherman under my belt, but you know, it was still a crazy story when I heard that one of the guys fished up a man instead of crabs!" His expressions were excited and exaggerated, but he was a very friendly man, and there's nothing wrong with that.

"I was wondering about that." The opportunity to gather any information presented itself. "I don't really remember much of anything about why I would be drifting in the ocean and fished up by the boat."

"Ohhhh… I see." Nolan had a hand under his chin in thought. "Bet it's amnesia." That was more of a statement, a convenient one at that.

I wracked the racing thoughts in my brain, organizing them into useful patterns of information: 

_ My name is Will Graham. I live in Wolf Trap, Virginia. I was an FBI special agent on the field chasing the case on the Chesapeake Ripper. He was caught by Jack three years ago, and now lives the rest of his days confined at the BSHCI. His insanity was judged by the public and sentenced to a life of memories, writings, and drawings. I was.... about to go home, back to my wife — my family. The Red Dragon.... was caught?.... So why was I adrift at sea?.... _

I shifted my feet uncomfortably. The pit of my stomach didn't seem to agree with me or my thoughts.  _ Did Hannibal do this to me?  _ Everything happening in my life is usually orchestrated by  _ him. _ I gritted my teeth as I took a glance into the windows of Nolan's soul, slipping into his mind. But it only served to reaffirm how clueless he is because the news didn't seem to be his strong point. He didn't seem to recognize my face nor my name. 

"I remember my name is Will," I feigned the persona of a weak-willed man. "Tiny glimpses of a long-gone family, but not much of anything else...." The croak stuck through my throat as I briefly remembered Abigail. I detest pity, but garnering sympathy here will aid my search for information. I needed to know,  _ what happened back then?  _

I wracked back through my brain for any more recent pieces of my jumbled memory. The light flashes of events leading to an agreement of a ruse, but after that was a completely blank canvas to me.  _ Damn it! _

"Damn man, that's rough, sorry to hear about that." Nolan's voice grounded me back to the present. His dark eyes were filled with pity at my difficult situation. "But look on the bright side, you could start on a blank, clean slate. You know, some people envy that." He took another sip from his mug. His light-hearted demeanor was quite welcomed. I held my glass of water up to reciprocate the toast in false acknowledgment.  _ He's not involved in my problems. It'll be best to play nice, then. _

"Hey! Brat!" That familiar menacing tone drew closer to our little table in the corner. "You little shit, are you even old enough to be drinking?" The dark-haired man shoved Aidan towards me, taking up most of the space on the bench. Aidan seemed to become even smaller than he already was in the face of this obnoxiously aggressive man.

"I... I'm twenty-one now.... so...."

"HAhh?!!"

Aidan instantly covers into a burrow he made of my sleeve. He was a rabbit hiding in fear of a fox.

"Curtis, you asshole, go clean up your attitude first, before mouthing off like a cat in heat." Nolan's eyes turned sharp, as did his words.

"Get off my back, would ya?" The man growled as he rolled his eyes and snatched Aidan's cup. He unceremoniously chugged it all down. "He's useless," he spat at Aidan, the stench of alcohol stung through his yellowish teeth. "Get off this boat before someone gets hurt." He then snapped towards me, sizing me up before he strode off with a puffed chest.  _ Arrogant bastard.  _ His voice was constantly loud and grating to me, and yet he gets cheers from the crowd to chug down beer.

I silently glared daggers at the man's back as he left, but quickly adopted my poker face, once again. I turned my attention back towards Aidan, a kinder face put on. A familiar feeling bubbled inside of me as I carded my fingers through his black locks of short waves. "Strength doesn't come from what you can do." My voice was slow and steady like a father to a son. "It comes from overcoming the things you thought you couldn't do," I said in a soft tone. The young man's snivels continued to drown themselves into my sleeve, though it grew loud enough for me to hear. 

He mumbled: "There isn't much I can do...."

"Listen, everyone usually starts with a fear of storms," I said to him, "but eventually learn how to sail through them," those gray eyes of his slowly looked up from my sleeve. "Alright?" His eyes seemed to briefly flash with renewed life in them now, though he still made himself appear small.  _ A cunning boy. _ That is what I immediately thought.

"Wow," Nolan interjected, "the first time I've seen Aidan so openly attached to someone. He seemed to have trouble socializing with people, and you sure have a way with words, Will." He smiled in amused approval. 

I simply hummed in response, giving no other unnecessary information about myself away.

"Hey," someone called out to us. He looked to be a relatively tall and tanned individual with short brown hair. He also looked to be in his early thirties. "I'm sorry about my brother." The man stood right in front of our table with a slightly bowed head, it granted his words more merit. "He's always been hot-headed since we were young, but of course, I understand it doesn't excuse his attitude." Only I noticed how he subtly flashed his teeth. "I'll go talk to him." Just as quickly as the mysterious man arrived, he left just as fast.  _ He didn't introduce his name. _

Aidan seemed to have been put at more ease from the man's words, whilst the blonde across us was just happily drinking. "Probably wondering who that was, right? Jaden Bridges, jerkwad Curtis' younger brother." Nolan informed me as he downed his third beer. The fringes of his ears seemed too pink.

"I see."

"He.... he seems ni-nice." Aidan's words stuttered slightly.

Nolan released a sigh; his breath intoxicated. "Yeah.. wonder..." he covered his mouth to hide a small burp, "how does a good guy like that have a shitty brother like.. like Curtis." He puts down his fifth and seemingly last beer for the night. "I guess you know....you know what some people say, siblings are always each other's opposites."

"Nolan," I did the socially acceptable thing, "You've probably had enough for tonight." I subtly moved the sixth mug from his hand. 

"Yeah," he chuckled at the smooth gesture, "I've already and drunk more than I should have. And I'll wake up with a bad hangover tomorrow. Still worth it." He was pleasant even while slightly intoxicated. "But don't worry, I should be able to sleep it over tomorrow since this storm is gonna be a pretty big one." The blonde man curled his arms on the table, then laid his head down on them. "We kinda like, have a day off tomorrow."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


I finally trudged back to the bed I had laid on when I first woke up on this boat. I had left the rowdy mess hall before the rest of the crowd could all think to do the same. The more traffic is avoided, the better I can keep my thoughts to myself. Though, I did take Nolan back to the crew's shared sleeping quarters, as led to me by Aidan.  _ Thank you.  _ The blonde man provided me some pretty decent information, so it was probably the least I could do. Leaving Aidan to settle into his sleeping spot, I walked back to the place I was assigned to sleep in, which seemed to be a sort of storage space, but had one extra bed frame with an uncomfortable mattress as hard as a rock to boot, but I've certainly experienced worse. 

A man who seemed to have some first aid and medical knowledge checked in on me. It was just a formality, I supposed. He checked me over for the possibility of a concussion, or any other possible injuries from today's crane and hook mishap. He also looked over the small cloth and bandage over the cut on my cheek, which I presumed he may have patched up for me before I awoke. Fortunately, the previously deep wound was already fairly closed over, and the small stitches can be removed now. It seemed like there would be minimal scarring. 

I just needed a simple bandage and gaze. Since it was hard not to see the man's eyes because he directed me to face forward, I couldn't help but notice how he seemed more relieved about not having to use further medical supplies on me, rather than my better state of health itself.  _ A practical man.  _ I could understand that. He needn't know any more than I allow, however, so that works out fine for me.

But the man's eyes suddenly flickered over to the scar on my cheek. "So what's the story behind that nasty cut?" Just as I thought he wasn't the meddlesome type, he had to have that shitty Freddie Lounds trait. 

"Bar fight?" I simply looked at him unimpressed. "Ex fight?" I sighed at his continued nosiness at pushing a narrative. "Some crazy girlfriend tossed you into the sea or something?" His eyes looked as if they were grinning as he related to that specific thing. I refused to humor him, however, as he has already made it obvious that he just wants some gossip material.  _ Fine. _

"Look man, sorry, but I can't remember anything." I leaned forward a bit, slightly broadening my shoulders, and my eyes focused on his. "I've got a migraine, so if you could,  _ doctor,  _ I'd like to rest now." The man hid it well, but I could see how his muscles stiffened, offended at my choice of words. I hardly care what others think of me, however.

"Well—" He abruptly stopped mid-sentence. My silent eyes were metaphorically boring holes into him. "Excuse me, then." He elegantly whipped around, each step away was an even pace, but I could tell that it was forced by the slight tremble of his shoulders, which anyone else would miss. Before shutting the door with a rude slam, he gave me one glance. And after a second thought, the doctor swiftly left me alone to my thoughts.

My opinion of him had slightly risen, at that moment. The man isn't so clueless, as I had initially thought he was.  _ Clever the man is a bird of prey. But only a bird, nonetheless. _

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚪●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Apologies for the length it took to upload the 2nd chapter, it's just an excuse but I've been editing this story and my other 2 stories sporadically, based on time, inspiration, and my mood. Future updates will also most likely not be on a schedule, as I am kind of meticulous when it comes to heavy edits. Bit of a sudden end to the chapter there, but I felt like that quote needed extra attention lol.
> 
> Anyways, this is how I imagined a season 4 of the Hannibal TV series could continue. (Lost at sea! Yes!) I'm still figuring things out and building it up by imagining how future chapters would go, but it's just my own head and thoughts, and I am but simply an amateur writer >.< who, might I add, doesn't even have the best of grammar T_T 
> 
> (Random Topic: Anyone else has fried chicken today? I did, and it was delicious 😈)
> 
> I hope that you all enjoyed the reading. 😄❤ Thank you so much for reading!  
> \- Cya next time (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	3. Mirrors of The Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I always thought of it as a curse. But now, it is quite entertaining."

****** 3 ******

The soft creak of dead trees whispered into my ear — nailed boards in nightly slithers. I scratched the grogginess from my eyes as I slowly got up. It was dark outside, and the stars must still be out.

The floorboards creaked, softly like the feathery steps of a cat. Curious about the sound, I slipped away from the room. I took a poke through another door — and another — and another. It had begun to feel as if the winding halls of the boat were endless; even as I moved through the hull like a quick prowling panther on the walls. I flicked open one more door, and a large space inside beheld me; however, the saloon was devoid of life, ghostly so. I checked another room off to the side and it too was hollow of life, and so was the gallery, and the mess hall, and every hallway. I had thought that at least one person would be awake already, but none so far...

_ When did I get on a ghost ship? _ Putting aside my sarcastic humor, I slinked towards the door leading to the outer deck and opened it.

"Hello?" I tested while tentatively poking my head through the doorway, tasting the salty air on the smooth wind for other predators. But all was silent. A sudden whiff caught my attention.  _ Odd... _ there was.... a different scent in the air. Something other than salt and moldy wood. 

The smell grew stronger as the wind wafted through my nostrils. I followed the awful scent and took a full step outside. But then— 

_ CRACK! _

The shattering sound was like the twang of a million glass shards slicing through the air.

Startled now, I moved quickly. My heart thumped harder between the ribs of my chest, my blood vessels dilated, and the pressure rang heavier. My eyes darted rapidly from side to side as I felt like the prey.

_ CRACK! CRUNCH!  _

My ears jerked towards the origin of another wave of sounds like glass shards crashing onto the floor. The origin where the captain should be steering. I turned the corner, running to the helm of the vessel with springs in each step. As I came closer, an instinctive tremble shot through my very bone marrow, it was as if my blood was electricity.

My eyes widened, a myriad of shadows and crimson laid onto them. My feet were a deer frozen in headlights. My senses all screamed at me at once. My brain wanted me to run away, but I couldn’t....and I felt the reason why. What entered my view was the haze of horrors, the stuff of terrors of the night: bleeding shadows, a demonic beast of slinking darkness loomed over me. 

Caught between its pitch-black talons — too long to be a human's fingers — was a slim figure. The small body was limp, talons held the black matted hair, and the body marred in trails of ravaged crimson. The darkness seemed to revel in sadistic tendencies. 

As if it were smiling, moonlit teeth from the darkness spilled with ruby liquid as it turned to gaze at me. With pools as obsidian as the abyss, hypnotic almost. Its paralyzing eyes held me in place, its eyes slit in watch of its prey. Abruptly, it let the small bloodied thing slip from its shadowy talons, kicking it with good measure over the edge and into the bottomless waters. My voice caught in my throat, hitched, a silent scream for the one lost to the hungry waves devouring dulled emeralds.

Then, those neverending dark orbs shifted back all of their focus onto me, with silver gleaming along with its fangs. Extensions began to protrude from its top and were branch-like. The beastly thing roars as foam spilled from between its jagged teeth. Distorted sounds cackling from its watering mouth, almost mocking, as if a human-made monster.

_ Thud-ThUD-THUD!  _

The stench of rot quickly approached — putrid decay and earthy. Those obsidian orbs flashed closer and closer, slowly turning into azure moons. 

_ THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! _

Darkness washed over me in begging echoes. The beast wanted more nourishment.

_ It hurt! _

_ It was painful! _

I stared fearfully wide-eyed at the gnawing teeth devouring me. It tore me apart… a bit... by... bit. Without mercy as an animal following its instincts does.

  
  


_ Knock-KnoCK-KNOCK! _

I jolted, my legs tangled in the darkness, and the rest of my body twirled into a mess of hard springs. My chest felt like it was weighed down by a burden like boulders. The puffs of breath from my lips were haggard to a panic attack level. I flicked my eyes open with rabid-like movement. A growl at the bottom of my throat as I fearfully glanced at the source of the sudden sound.

"Young man?" The voice questioned.  _ It was familiar...  _ Sounded older, a warm voice that certainly grew wiser through the years.

I blinked, still disoriented and confused at what's happening around me. 

"Oh." The bleeding colors and shapes gradually meshed back together into what my brain could piece coherently. My eyes focused on the man in front of me — the older gentlemen. I blinked again, making sure that what I was seeing wasn’t another disguised night of terror.

"You alright?" He looked at me with concern in his eyes. 

I blinked once more, cleansing the terror of my nights from the eyes of my mind. Relaxing my expression, I took a glance around me, the familiar storage-makeshift-bedroom greeted me back, firmly grounding me back to reality. 

"Erm, yeah, sorry..., Harrison, it....just had a bad dream is all." I dismissed while wiping the sweat away with my bare hands, still internally shaken. It would look to anyone like I had gone for a swim.

The bed was a mess, I noticed. There were pillows and sheets flung all over the floorboards. The bandages on my arms and cheek were half ripped and practically falling off. And I need to wash off the clinging sweat-drowned hair on my skin.

"Hmm, I see." Harrison looked at me sympathetically, then handed me a handkerchief from his coat pocket. "Well, this works out. First, let’s patch you back up." He turned back around, stepping out of the room. "Then, it’ll be good to get your mind off of it. Come."

Curious. After drying myself, I quickly followed him without complaint, which was odd of me.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"You're an experienced fisher?" The older gent remarked with interest. He stood at the railings opposite side to me, holding a well-maintained black and gray fishing rod. The waves were quite peacefully tamed.

I turned slightly and gave a small glance to the mannered man. "Maybe— I recall being a duckling around my father. Must have copied some trivial skills, I suppose." Prying the small cage open, I moved the fairly large red pinching creatures into a larger bin to store them. "I don't think I've fished crabs though... before." I smiled almost naturally, my person suit was tailored for occasional interactions, such as these.

"Really?" The water splashed behind me. Harrison must have caught something.

I curiously turned around, but I saw an expression on Harrison's face that I wasn't expecting. The corners of his lips were curled down, and his gray eyes sunken down as if brooding.  _ What could he be thinking? _

"Well, Will, you're a natural at it, then. And a new experience is a worthwhile experience in my book." He continued our previous conversation as if nothing was amiss with him.

Shrugging my shoulders, I focused back on my task. Once emptied, I reset the trap and tossed the black cage back into the dark quiet waters of the Atlantic. The ocean seemed endless, with no land insight that I could make of. This is a good time to fish; the stillness of the night is the moment when most prey think they are safest.

"Atlantic crabs are really good, plus it pays well." Harrison gave a hearty chuckle. 

An awkward silence crept in the space between us as I focused on my catch. I'm not a very great conversation partner, to be honest.  _ That sort of thing requires socializing. _

"So, where'd you and your father fish, Will?" I felt his footsteps come up from behind me. The question asked was an obvious attempt to fill the silent void between us. Usually, I detest this type of small-talk, but he was kinder than most. 

_ I'll let his fishing slide. This time. _

What he, actually, asked was a loaded question, it was a thoughtless trap, but precarious enough for me, nonetheless. I supposedly don't remember most of my past. Since he is a smart one, it would do me well to be extra cautious. So I chose to stay silent. He can take that as me being either too focused on a task, or dodging the question.

My silence pricked his mind. I could feel wondering eyes scan over me.  _ So he WAS the annoying type to notice the subtle things. _

This may be the first time I thank my problematic mind, but due to it, I could already tell that he didn't buy that I was just simply too busy fishing to answer him. He did not comment on it, though. The snap-snap of furious red clawed shells fighting against the steel trap still occupied most of my attention, anyways. 

Laughably, the large crustaceans proved themselves to be quite the interesting prey. I loved fly fishing for the thrill of the lure, but this was also intriguing in that a single pinch from these bone breakers could easily crush my palms.

"Humans can also suddenly snap, one way or the other," I mumbled in thought. Harrison scratched his graying beard at my words, whether from the unexpected reply or something else, I wasn't too sure....yet.

I pulled the cage back up again, emptying the crustaceans, then tossed the cage back into the waters.

As the hours crept by, the sun had begun to crack the dawn, the hypnotic clouds in their switch from orange to red then pale blue spirals. Currently, only Harrison and I were active above the deck, witnessing the smoothed swish of red to blue swirls, and the gradually fading light of faraway celestial bodies. 

Most of the crewmen were, quite frankly, still obnoxiously snoring away. They were loud enough that even I heard them even from my separated sleeping quarter. 

I slowly tugged on a thick brown rope, exposing more and more of its length from the waves of gray sapphire. Until finally, the sleek carbon fiber cage shined under the fading moonlight, arising from the ripples of the ocean.

"You've got another nice haul!." He beamed as I finally pulled, for the last time, the cage back onto the boat. There were many large, meaty sized Atlantic crabs rattling against each other, bigger than the last. Their plump forms pleased the experienced crab fisher, greatly "You're quite the natural, Son." His relaxed shoulders looked like prey to me.

"Do you have a son, Harrison?" I suddenly asked him, my tone flat and seemingly neutral, but inside I was excited to see how disruptive my question was to him.

"Hmm," he scratched his beard again, "do you, Will?"  _ That was a bit defensive of him. _

"I do," I paused. Not minding the slightly rude tone of his, I made myself appear as if in deep thought. "Or I did, I believe. But there's something so foreign to me about family. I see snippets. I see her warm smile that accepted me. I see his adoring eyes that sought out a fatherly guide in me. I see us walking the dogs together in the mornings." My voice truly shook from the nostalgia brought back up to the surface through muddied waters. "I remember expressions so vividly, but their names elude me, still. Darkness takes them away from me. And an ache ravages me when I try to retrieve them from within me." My voice low towards the end.

From the corner of my eyes, I noticed how the joints in Harrison's shoulders rustled down further in a less guarded fashion. I did speak true words, but still elusive enough to pursue the amnesia front. 

"I see, my sympathies." His eyes filled with a reflection of pity. "I was married once y'know. Though, we’ve now been divorced for about ten long years." He revealed after a few silent moments. 

I looked at him curiously, wondering more about his story.

"She couldn't take my long journeys at sea anymore...." He said. "And as a husband, I failed her in so many ways." The words flowed loosely from his lips that he, himself, seemed surprised at revealing such intimate things.

I returned the sympathetic look he offered me earlier. "A family— The warmth I felt when I was with them, I remember that well...." Flashes of silky ash blonde hair wistfully gone just as quick as it came through my head. The comfort that presence gave me was now a thing of my past. I picture the streams of ocean-blue eyes and long dark-brown hair. Eyes that lit up when eager to come talk to me, to learn something new. Hair that dripped when a fish had accidentally run loose from her... The phantom ache was still there despite the long passing of time, it seems.

"A family— It's a nice thing." Harrison's voice broke my trance. I saw his hand slowly move away from his beard. His eyes had this odd slightly glassy look to them. I could slowly feel this sense of longing flowing from him to me. I could see what he saw. I could feel what he felt. I could think what he thought.

"....Shall I fetch Aidan?" I blinked once, subtly tilting my head in an understanding fashion at him. "A plant needs roots to grow." Harrison may be very good at schooling his expression and keeping his true thoughts to himself, but that wouldn't have worked on me, anyway. 

His refusal to answer at this point would just seem odd. And oddly, I enjoyed that micro jerk in his pupils, no matter how brief and quick it was to disappear. I saw the flash of horror. It was there just as quickly as it was hidden again.

"Are you going to be his roots then, Will? I'm sure he'll appreciate the pointers." His eyes steeled again. Though his tone was light, a sense of unease had already crept in. 

"No," I stared straight into his own set of eyes, the swirls in his gray eyes with speckles of jade were fascinating to me. It was a unique color, shared by two.

I could see and feel that he isn't easy to unnerve, but I had managed to do just that. I could feel his own hidden and anxious trembles. If someone were watching us right now, they would think of those traditional western showdowns, though not as glamorized.

"I didn't plant the seed, but I'll help him grow his roots." I finally said. I was so far into Harrison’s mind that I saw my own offputting, thinly curled grin. And I felt the anxious shiver go down my spine as if it were my own.

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


"His face is familiar," I could hear the usual gossip that floated around me even as I was still walking in the hall. They were barely even trying to be secretive about it at this point. People love to talk. Humans love to probe. And ignorant sheep love to poke at things they shouldn't.

"I've seen him somewhere before. Definitely... But just wher—" A man with short, brownish-blonde hair quickly shut off his mouth when I entered the room. My eyes honed onto him like a snake. The corner of his pupils darted, and the full-body fidget at the sight of my smile which was akin to the slow rise of dough — warm and inviting for the doctor — was humorous to me. From his instantly paled face, my sharp stormy eyes seemed to have clued him to a promised reckoning. 

"I—" The sudden hitch in the doctor's throat was happily audible, "I have another appointment to attend to. Will you please excuse me." The man quickly motioned up and out, and the after-image of him was gone in a snap. From their expressions, I could tell that his fellow crewmates were puzzled by the doctor's sudden departure, but in the end, didn't think too deeply.  _ Like sheep. _

The scent of the doctor’s burrowed fear, with his tail not quite tucked between his legs, was a surprisingly delicious thing.  _ He certainly makes things a bit interesting. _ Whether it was a good or detrimental thing to let continue or not, I was already tempted to let the  _ joke _ go on, as I wanted to see what would happen.

Satisfied, I strode off victorious in that I had soured someone's appetite this morning, grabbing some appetizing food. I find that human curiosity is both entertaining and oh so tiring at times. If it were made through fire and steel, it would be a blade pointed at both ways. Despite this, I did abhor being reminded of a certain redhead...

A hand flickered in the corner of my eye, pulling me away from my ruminating head. I saw the wave from a man with ruffled and smooth blonde hair, but if you trailed downward, it was clear that one of his eyes were barely opened, and around the orbits were a noticeable black. Simply put,  _ he looked like shit. _

"Hey Will." A palm held his head up with a swaying elbow placed on the table. His usually man-bun was nowhere to be seen. His hair was quite ruffled and split. The most damning part was how rough his voice sounded like he detested every waking moment.

"Well, aren't you just a ball of sunshine this morning." I uncharacteristically teased, while placing my tray of food and cup down at the table in front of him, taking a seat. 

He scowled at my words as he moved his palm to rub at his aching forehead.

"I did warn you that you've probably had enough drinks yesterday."

"Still worth it." He barked. "And you don’t have to rub it in." 

"But you are rubbing it." I took a sip of my cup of coffee like it was a teacup.

"Haha...Funny." He rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Damn it... they said that the storm was going to last all day today." The blonde sighed. I took another sip of my coffee, while internally chuckling at his raging complaints.  _ Now, where was that cheeky man I met yesterday? _

Changing the topic, Nolan pointed a look towards the doors of the mess hall where a certain sheep turned tail to. "A nice man put into perspective, he is a fairly young doctor who just finished his residency last year, at aged twenty-seven too, at that" He casually informed me. "Also, he gave me some pain relief medicine since my brain wants to feel like it's about to burst out of my skull. Sweet relief." 

The mess hall was gradually filled with a rambunctious crowd of fishermen.

Nolan glanced back at me. "I'd like to comment though: it seems like you and Joris, are quite the best of friends." A curious smile plastered onto his still hungover face. We both did just witness the named man high-tailed it out of here when I came into the picture. It wouldn't be odd that Nolan was suspiciously curious about it.

"You drunkard," I defensively mocked. "Here." Shoving a bottle of water at the blonde, and thus removed that topic from play.

"Thank you." Nolan smiled appreciatively and took the bottle, chugging several mouthfuls of the clear liquid down. 

I continued to eat while Nolan talked away: a complaint about a snoring roommate here and topics on how to handle the crab fishing suits and equipment there. Lest one ends up with a hole in their stomach. 

Though, I've already had hands-on experience taught to me by Harrison.

"Anyways, you talked with him, right?" He exhaled in relief from the cool liquid, while gathering both arms back onto the table to rest his chin on them. "Harrison." He clarified. He was quick to switch onto a different topic, with his probing eyes that observed me from his more comfortable-looking position. "So whatcha guys talk about?"

"Nolan," I casually cleared my throat, "Some things are a bit too personal that I don’t have the right to discuss them with you."

"Fair enough." He nodded shortly, an unguarded shrug eased his shoulders. "Have you seen Aidan, then? He was long gone before I even woke up this morning due to my hangover." I felt a small nudge at my leg just as he brought his name up. "That damn Curtis, better not be messing with him." He frowned.

"I'm h-here." Almost a squeak, the boy’s voice was soft and unsure of himself, but he made himself known to us.

"Aidan?" Nolan’s round brown eyes suddenly grew even rounder. "You’re so small that I didn’t even see you there, buddy."  _ I noticed. _

But at Nolan’s thoughtless comment, the young man seemed to withdraw even further into himself. I glared daggers at the blonde. Realizing his error, Nolan bumped his head multiple times onto the wooden table in apology. 

"S...SORRY. I— I didn’t mean it....erm...that way." He stammered.

"It’s o-okay... I know you’re actually nice." The boy quickly glanced up at Nolan, his expression jittering with nervousness as did his words, but he managed to convey understanding. 

Nolan frowned, clearly dejected at making a careless mistake. There isn't much point in kicking a dog while it's down, though _ it was tempting. _

The boy slowly stood, taking the seat at the table next to me and right by the window. The golden rays illuminated the speckles of emeralds that seemed to twinkle within the whirlpools of his gray irises that seemed to shift in color. "Thank you," the boy's cheeks flushed when he turned back to me, "for showing me how to fish earlier. I-I didn't know... that-that it c-could be so fun."

"Um-hum." I acknowledged with a bright hum. 

"Ah, so that's why his bed was empty this morning. Usually, I'm the one waking him up." 

"I... I want to l-learn to be useful faster, that— that's why... I asked mister Will yesterday." The young man said slowly, taking his time to enunciate his words.

"Just Will is fine," I corrected him calmly.

He timidly nodded with a glance to Nolan, then me. It seemed like he was looking to make sure that what he said wasn't a bother.  _ It was a shame that his confidence was in tatters. _

"I'm-I-I'm sorry to have bothered you with a thing like... th-that." Aidan's mood quickly deflated like a puppy whose owner just left the room. 

After a moment of thinking, I stood. "Let's go." I pointed a neutral look to Aidan, then towards the door leading to the deck.

"Go?" He quickly stood up to follow, even as confusion littered his face. "W-where?" The twinkles of fear at having done something wrong were beginning to become apparent in his eyes.

"Have fun." Nolan understandably waved us goodbye as the two of us stepped out towards the deck. "Bring me back some Aspirin, if you could. That would be great. Thanks." His toothy grin and voice faded to the back, the restless waves and loudness of the mess hall overtook our ears. 

The rift and ripples ravaging the ocean seemed to grow rowdier and hungrier as we walked along with fortified hardwood panels. The splashes of famished beasts of water easily slid along the deck, flushing back out to sea.

Harrison was up ahead. His voice domineeringly loud and just oozed respect as he quickly shot out commands left and right. Unfathomable to me that he could stand having that many sets of eyes on himself. One could easily mistake him as the true captain of the fishing vessel.

"Mist— Will?" Aidan consciously kept his pace slower and always behind mine. "I'm so-sorry... I did something ba-bad?" He nervously croaked. I could have sworn that the tips of his ears seemingly tilted like an embarrassed bunny.

Turning my gaze towards Harrison, our eyes linked briefly. His eyes then glanced to the side when he noticed Aidan next to me. 

_ Swish-Swish-Swish. _

I blinked at the sound of waves, opening my eyes again. He nodded first. Then I, as well. The contact was long enough to give rise to the mechanisms within the other's mind.

"W-Will?"

"No, don't worry." My voice unconsciously lowered to a soothing tone one would use to their child. "I'm going to teach you." Patting the green-eyed boy on the shoulder, an action reminiscent of someone else.

Aidan stared at me with wide eyes still muddled in confusion. He seemed to be wondering why I wasn't angry at him. But that wasn't all that was within his eyes, however. I can see it: the want of learning was so vividly clear in his sparkling expression. That may be the first time I've seen that much positive emotion on his face.

"Follow me, I'm going to show you how to become who you are."

Following Harrison's instructions to the entire crew, we headed towards the crab cages to sort through the good-sized ones for us to keep, while tossing the small and frail ones out. 

Aidan quietly followed me as I did all my tasks. It was clear from his sparkling emerald eyes, that just as I had predicted, he was absorbing all of my movements and actions as a duckling would to its parent. Harrison gave a pleased nod to us whenever he passed by, seemingly understanding what I was doing. After all, sometimes you need outside help to fix internal struggles one does not mean to become blind to.  _ A favor for a favor. _

Though, I wondered to myself,  _ why _ I had become invested in this—I don't need to be. At the bare minimum, I only need to simply fade into the background, until we reach land. But perhaps, the reason may be because I'm reminded of familiarity — of a reverse image mocking me.

I directed Aidan to mirror my actions: "Hold onto the other side of the cage. Then lower it down slowly." The black steel made a clattering sound as it slid onto the floorboards. 

Together, we started to sort and pluck individual crabs to keep while tossing the smaller ones back into the ocean. Aidan was following my actions to the fiddle. If we were in a classroom setting, I could imagine him, right now, taking notes down furiously, almost religiously zealot-like. 

But as we minded our business, building up Aidan's skills. The murmurs started again.

"Is that boy going to be alright?" 

Surprisingly, they didn't gossip about me. 

The gruff voices, who seemed as if they had enough time in their hands to spout nonsense, came from another group of men just next to us. Their builds were larger and more muscled in comparison to Aidan. They handled the different cages full of deep-sea pinchers with experienced ease; even cracked jokes at each other whilst doing so.

"He's defective, isn't he? So is he right enough in the head for this?" Another voice said in a failed hush.

"Pretty scrawny-looking too."

"Is it okay? Y'know like, it gets pretty rough out here. He could get hurt."

"He should just get off this boat, then." A familiar voice spat.

"Is it okay if I get paid like he does while doing almost nothing at all?" A scruffed man bolstered in a harsh snicker.

_ These annoying pigs ought to keep their thoughts to themselves.  _

I snapped around and glared. The predator growled inside for me to release it. The men instantly went rigid, their faces paled, except for one. It did alleviate some of my risen darkness, though admittedly not enough. 

Protectively stepping next to Aidan, I gripped his shoulder to both distract and relieve his growing distress. There was a bitter taste in my mouth at how beaten he looked, that he accepted the insults so easily. He looked as if he were a small animal at a zoo, trapped in an enclosure. An impulse within me erupted at that moment, one that I thought had already been ruthlessly snuffed out by the closest thing I had to a friend. I know I'm diving too deep, but I was already slipping. And now it can't be stopped.

"Aidan." 

He quickly looked back up at my voice. 

"Just know that adulthood is like looking both ways before you cross the street." 

"Um-hm." He nodded, less enthusiastic than earlier. 

I inhaled, "But then getting hit by an airplane." His eyebrows furrowed at the puzzling meaning of my words. The bewilderment in those gray emeralds of his was a good thing. It takes your mind off of unimportant things, people, in your surroundings.

"E-emm.... okay." He nodded, regardless.

"Good." I smiled. "See this here," I lifted the cage up. "Copy where my hands go, and make sure to keep your fingers away from their disproportionately sized pinchers. Okay?”

"Okay!" He beamed back again.

  
  


~•● 🔵 ●•~

  
  


"Here, Nolan." I tossed a small container of pills at the man. 

"Thank you." He turned in his bed, his face still ruffled from the hangover. "I really needed this."

As Aidan and I walked back out into the hallway, the same man from earlier purposely bumped into my shoulder.

"You know what I said earlier." He glared at me. "That boy should get off this boat." Aidan cowered while the man raised his arms to shove me. Reacting faster than the man was expecting, I ducked and kicked the back of his knees. His face full of shock as he timbered down onto his legs, lamely so. I towered over him now.

Jeers and whistles began to come from bored people with no other form of entertainment.

"You little shit!" He barked. 

"That was self-defense." I smoothly dodged a punch. "This is revenge," I said darkly. Reeling my hand back, I clocked the man right in the jaw, thudding right onto his back. I may have hit him harder than I was anticipating. Looking down, my fist was covered in a smooth stream of red. At least they were finally tasting the scent of iron it had itched for.  _ And... It felt just. _ Though others may not think so.

"Break it up!" Harrison's voice traveled from the other end of the hall. His footsteps were rushed and loud as he furiously strode up to both me and my aggressor. "What the hell, Will?!" He grabbed my arm, then urged me away from the man with a push. Then crouched over the man. "Nicked his tongue. Shit— That was excessive, Will! Though I know that most likely Curtis, was in the wrong here." He glanced at the shivering boy, then looked back to me with a steeled expression. "But you made a bloody mess."

"B-but he-he... Will, wa-was—" 

"Not now, Aidan, later. I need to bring Curtis to Joris, quickly." Harrison dismissed us with a flick of his hand. 

Already, a large crowd had gathered. Some were witnesses. Others were shocked. Many were angry. Like 'how dare this stranger do this to Curtis?!' Angry. The bias was clear. The burning gaze at my back sought their reckoning.

"Go. Don't be around him for a while." Nolan stepped from the door of his room to stand next to me. "Things are a little messy since Curtis has many friends here." He said as he escorted us away from the area.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Will." Aidan's eyes were watery. "That I'm so weak..." I observed his eyes curiously and saw it... The flecks of green had ignited. "I hate him...." His voice was low. "Fuck him!" His slim shoulders jerked. He seemed as surprised at himself as Nolan did.

I smiled while Nolan continued to look anxiously surprised. "That's how it should be, Aidan," I said, feeling proud. "See, it's better to not force yourself to keep everything all bottled up inside." I patted his shoulder with my non-bloodied hand. "Tell me, how does that make you feel?"

"F-feel?"

"Yes. How?"

"I felt....powerful."

I glimmered at his response, nodding my head. "You want his approval, don't you, Aidan?" I said suddenly, observing his face closely.

"Oi, Will." Nolan began to voice his concern.

However, Aidan silenced him as he glanced up at me with eyes burning with a new rising emotion, his prickled up defensive anger. No doubt, many thoughts are swirling in his head.  _ Oh, what could I mean?  _ Is probably what he's thinking. It was good that Nolan sensed the need to walk ahead and give some privacy, leaving with only an anxious glance back.

"Who...Whose?" Aidan stammered. I could feel the young man feigning ignorance.

I curled an eyebrow upwards, looking at him silently — knowingly. I want him to know that I know. And I wanted to push those buttons. I wanted to see how many more emotions he could show. I wanted to see what else he would say. I wanted to know what would happen.

He huffed. I can picture the hairs on the spine of a cat flaring up, he was like a cat whose space has been threatened.

"Whether they're aware of it or not, people hurt others just by existing." He replied slowly, in that same cryptic fashion. 

I let the suggestion hang, for a while.

"Are you aware of it?" I pushed a button, slowly.

"....Yes."

  
  


~•●🔴●•~

.

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

Blue ripples swayed further up, then down, leaving behind new layers of burying grains of sand.

The winds swooned as if in a sing-song, exacerbating the beauty of nightly nature. Even with the gentle luminosity of faraway celestial bodies lighting the way, the deep oceans are contradictory. The waves can be unforgivable, ruthless, and indifferent....and yet a miracle had seemingly blessed this quieted night. 

False lights flicked themselves off, one by one. The children ran back to their warm cottages. Their laughter was silenced by the glowing celestial bodies. All were heading to cozy beds and houses full of prey. They will see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Quieted until what remained were only the moon's fluorescence and the night prowlers. 

With a full silver illuminating the ghostly sands, the waves continued depositing grains upon grains of sand. And slightly beneath those growing grain layers laid dirtied flecks of gold and matted curls of onyx. 

The soft whistling of sand slowly opened up, revealing longer flecks of gold. The teeth of sand swayed out to the sides from the movement — a mouth fully opened. A dark figure arose, almost ethereally. As it did, liquid ruby dripped from its body and onto the bleached grains, painting a once-in-a-lifetime picture.

The figure glanced at itself and patted down the grainy particles off of its body and golden follicles, a more stunning color than actual gold. Turning, it gazed down as it ran a hand through another figure with black matted curls, dusting off the sand from each soft follicle. Then, in one fluid motion, they revealed themselves; flicking up, the prowler's deeply amber orbs — under the moonlight — gleamed far more scarlet than the red sea. And as if mesmerized, one pair of curious eyes watched.

"Shhh."

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚪●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/C: 'Aidan quietly followed me as I did all my tasks.' He's SUS.  
> You don't know how badly I wanted to put this joke in here xD but it would've ruined the tone so bad haha.
> 
> Some Boat Terms:  
> \- Saloon - a room in a boat that is used as a social living room space.  
> \- Gallery - a boat kitchen, which may be inside or outside (inside in this case with halls EVERYWHERE)  
> \- Helm - the steering station where the wheel and engine controls are
> 
> (RANDOM TOPIC: By the way, anyone heard of the game called Death Stranding? ;) )
> 
> STORY UPDATE: I've been addicted to writing this fanfiction story versus my other two stories at the moment (apologies dear readers T_T) I will eventually update the other two once inspiration hits me, but until then, I'm sorry >.< please bear with me.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for continuing to read my story! ❤💖❤  
> \- Cya next time (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	4. The Beast From The Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All life came from the sea. So it is only fitting if all returned to it."

****** 4 ******

.

.

.

.

.

. 

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

Pellets glistening with salt continuously trickled along the shores of moonlit sands. The sandy grains darkened ever so slightly from the added liquid weight, like a corruption taking hold.

A striking burn from the dark waves slashed his body like a whip — observed by the only silver celestial in the sky. A force of nature so profound it would leave a vivid image within his mind palace, but their ballad with the cutting wind and dark descent into the merciless domain of Poseidon will hold an even more momentous place in his mind.

The raking waves pushed and tugged with an overwhelming sharpness like blades, further burdening and stabbing through his already achingly numbed cold body. 

The vicious grayed swirls were a constant madness that threatened to devour them both once more — a different kind of madness.

An arm grasped out the gray waves, like sharpened nails fighting through pure instincts, digging into the sandy material beneath.

The grains swept by the currents and left some of itself tangled with golden follicles as the waves retreated, but only the rear back more viciously. 

It was so difficult to move. To him, his limbs felt as if they've been tied to boulders; only the sting of saline seemed to be the one thing moving, but just to sink their teeth further into his already crimson dripping arms.

The waves swished again! And the strong arm of the ocean tried to drag the both of them back into its cold embrace. Another wave and another wave washed over him, blurring his vision from the sting of salt. 

He's not even entirely sure where "this" is... But, if he had to guess, and by his calculations based on their initial fall point, they were most likely still on American shores — the Eastern shore to be precise. They were almost touched by the Atlantic, just a little bit more ways to go. Even if the trails must run red, he will always prioritize his prize over the pigs.

The man grunted, even just moving his arm fiercely stung. He pushed on, however; he's gone through too many experiences to let a God's finicky nature easily snuff him out now. 

Despite the sparks of his nerves crying in pain, the man clawed and clawed his way through the grains of the beach. He knows in his mind that this was a moment that will determine rebirth, or extinguish their heartbeats. He felt distaste at the thought of such a plebian end after coming so far and finally obtaining what he held high on a pedestal for so long.

He stretched his long nimble arm, digging harder and gripping tighter at the grains. His other arm was occupied, as it held tightly around the waist of another person. He adamantly refused to let such an important part of himself be lost to the waves. Even if he must wade through a rain of blood, he'll brandish all his weapons, all his steel, all of his wit, so long as it means survival. His heightened predatory instincts refused anything less for them both.

Doused in the silver of the moon, his amber eyes glowed a deep scarlet, the irises bleeding with determination. 

He finally stabled both himself and the other body up onto the shore. But still, the waves fought him at every turn. The gray spirals rushed and chomped like a shark at their legs, threatening to reclaim them.

The man grunted harder, kicking with his back legs, a splashed rain of droplets bounced into the air as his limbs propelled them forward. He heaved hard as he finally plops them both down. He had dug them both far enough into the shoreline, that the sand kept them from being pulled back in again. The ripples of thunderous water whipping back away as if waving a white flag. 

God seemed fickle tonight; never did the monster dressed as a man ever believed in destiny, nor fate. In his eyes, it was a God's hypocrisy, giving life to beloved creations just to meet a meek end. But, perhaps he would relent to incline his head to believe such at the moment; for it felt like nothing less than a miracle to have survived a wondrous and beautiful becoming, and he was chosen to witness it. Like the petals lining the carpet to an altar, such was the ardor he felt, that this was their vows and unspoken oath.

Still breathing heavily, the man gazed at the seemingly lifeless figure lying next to him and within his arms. No matter how soft, he was still breathing, and that was all that mattered to the man.

Suddenly, the man flicked his head up with sharpened crimson eyes. There was a presence here, a possible threat. Gazing through the dark, he could see clearer than a majority of people. 

His gaze that was sharp as a knife quickly softened... _ It was a curious little lamb,  _ the clumsy realization hit. A rather embarrassing mistake, he chided himself. It was inexcusable, even if his nerves were still in survival mode.

He found the bright brown eyes of a child's curious nature rounded at him. He held her gaze, and the little thing's pupils were blown wide in wonder, the underlying imp in her had so many questions. She glanced at the unknown figure still lying in the sand. But having many years of experience, the man instantly, and easily, drew back his bloodthirsty nature. He slowly pried himself up from the sandy burial, taking all of the attention onto himself. Then, he warmly smiles at the child, non-threateningly so, charmingly so. 

He cloaked his predatory blood behind a facade of peaceful maroon orbs that no longer displayed the golden tinge of blood. That such a simple smile from a stranger, like himself, was able to silence a child before she could even open her curious lips, would be alarming to most.

With a tilt of her head, the child opened her mouth again to speak, but not a single sound peeped from her. That was because the man had glided his index to his cold lips first. 

He conducted an action elegantly reminiscent of a staged performance. And he lets a soft sound wisp from his smooth-talking persona.

"Shhh." The amber-eyed man cloyingly hushed the child — a playful expression wore onto his friendly mask. 

To a young child, it would only seem to simply be a fun game of secrets that she gets to play with the handsome man, who, she might add, had appeared from the sea like a mermaid.

Oh, what exaggerated stories she'll soon boast about to her little friends!  _ What fun this would be!  _ She would think. 

The lamb was elated that she must be the princess to this mermaid prince story. And she is always the pretty main character, no one else is allowed to play that part but herself. Otherwise, she would tattle on them to her papa.

The little thing's eyes bubbled in happy excitement — her mind was no doubt whirling in those fantasies children often imagine. 

With a childish bounce, she hurriedly nodded her head as if this was a new and exciting game to play. But the lamb knew it was already pretty late, and she would be expected to come home now. Excusing her for her young age, it was not rude for the child to suggest that they come back here to meet up and play tomorrow. Though were that demand spat from the lips of a matured prey, it would have been unspeakably rude.

Judging from the pout on the little lamb's lips to the mischievous glint in her eyes, it was clear that she would not take kindly to a ‘no.’ Nonetheless, the man from the sea seemingly smiled in simple agreement. The little lamb sparked with childish excitement. Opposite of her, however, the air around the man felt chilly with the nightly wind. But she was ignorant. Though his smile was as warm as a Summer’s day, he was as composed and silent as the morning frost of Winter. One abounded with life, and the other wrought death — not unlike his dual persona.

The child turned and skipped her way back on the little brick path. She was satisfied and sure she would see the sculpted man again. She would not, however, he assured.

Energy still abounded in the bounce of her every step. She could feel fluffy clouds beneath her feet, allowing her imaginations to fly freely.

All the while, the man kept his kind facade on as he patiently waved the child away, waiting for her to no longer be within sight. He knew that tonight, she'll be warm with a belly full of prey food inside one of the houses far on the hills. The gleaming lights behind those curtains contained larger pigs that knew not of what truly lies in the dark. Oh, just the thought of it offended him. For ignorance merits punishment. Therefore, ignorance is a sin. And being ignorant in his presence was unspeakably rude.

The familiar feeling was crawling inside of him again, so although he had the slight itch to hunt, right now was not the proper time to indulge. He’d never hurt a child — never. The sins of the parent should not be placed onto their child, however; if his actions were to indirectly cause a child pain, well that is still passable to him. It remains as one of his beliefs, that through the forge and fire could one become anew, and those who could not withstand it were unworthy of their chrysalis.

He took a glance at the slim wristwatch on his arm, how fortunate that it was waterproof. He knew, without a doubt, that the child will soon run her mouth to her other playmates as soon as she can. But every child has a secret or two they keep from the adults, he certainly had many of his. He would endear the young girl to keep up their little “playful” secret for as long as she could. So should their little secret still escape, which he knew it eventually would, he will still be given enough time to disappear: before the search parties arrive, before snooping parents, or ghost hunting teenagers think to explore. They will be like ghosts, and it will be as if they were never even here.

The familiar scent of metal gears and a quiet propeller engine was picked up by his extraordinary olfactory sense. The man looked to the soothed waves, and from the ghostly wind above the rippling bay, came a low sound, like the humming of an approaching beast from the deep. A sleek object appears from the water, its motor hummed louder as it drew nearer. Cutting through the crashing waves, the streamlined object settles nearby, stealthily sliding next to the sandy grains of the emptied beach. Like a ghost ship, it was eerie for it to come in the dead of night when the seers of the dark like to roam. 

With a thud, a figure of long dark hair — the epitome beauty of a demoness from eastern folklore — vaults out of the boat and tosses an anchor down.

"It's ready." A feminine voice sounding of eastern tongue came from the shadowed figure by the silver light. The man didn’t seem bothered at her drawing closer to them. Though he and his partner were still half-buried in the sand, his eyes showed no weakness. "Everything has been taken cared of." The woman offered a hand to the ash blonde-haired man. 

He took her hand.

She carefully steadied him to his feet, while also paying extra mind to his and his partner's sites of injuries. Once standing, she pressed a cloth to the man's abdomen as a temporary measure against the bleeding. She also wrapped a piece of cloth and gauze around the unconscious man's bleeding cheek; the gash on his face, though thin, was quite deep. The salty water helped alleviate the wounds a bit, but the following infections resulting from such an unsanitary method may become a nightmare.

"Thank you." The man spoke with a foreign accent on his tongue. There was a soft pain hidden in a silky baritone, that none but those who spent long enough with him could tell.

The woman nodded solemnly while helping him lift the other unconscious figure onto the speed boat. "The flames will be a good distraction." She reported to the man.

"How artful." The eastern European man looked over her frame with thoughtful consideration. Then with a subtle lap of his bottom lip from the thickening scent of iron, the man glides over to the unconscious figure, effortlessly hooking a limp arm over his broader shoulder. "A proud dragon destroyed by the flames and embers," he continued, "it is marvelously poetic, in a way." He lifted the sleeping figure, a fond smile plastered on his face as he observed his face.

"I'm sure it is. All the risks that you took, that is." When the woman took a glance at a thin black leather watch wrapped around her wrist, her expression soured. 

She flicked her eyes back towards the ash-blonde man. 

In contrast, the amber orbs looked rather amused by her words and demeanor. It was just not in his nature to take these kinds of live-threatening “risks.” Oh, how amusing it is, that he has (literally) fallen so far, but hadn’t a mind to change that.

"Interesting," he remarked with a glint in his eyes, "that you interpreted my request in such a way."

She scoffed.

Then with a sigh, the woman carefully grabbed the sleeping figure's arms with his help and laid him down onto the seat of the boat. "We must disappear now." She eyed the unconscious man for a split second.

A grin plastered on his face, despite the ruby streams beginning to seep through the cloth over his opened wounds. "Shall we?"

She brushed past the man and gripped the steering wheel. The speedy motorboat was made with materials that allowed for the seats to be of luxurious vinyl and faux leather upholstered fabrics. Due to the man's tastes, he would settle with nothing less for his things.

The man sat there with his legs crossed; he looked completely at home, unperturbed by even the darkness surrounding them. Pursing his lips, the man began to softly hum and whisper whistles into the dead wind. 

He was the eerie sight of icy calm, despite going through the motions of tidying up the dripped blood from both his and his partner's wounds. And he seemed unaffected, even as he stitched both the man's cheek, then his bullet wound. A bullet through the abdomen was by no means a scratch — fortunate that it had been a small shell. It would be that confidence was a virtue he valued, as he seemed to be the very epitome of that during such a messy cleanup.

The muck of crimson sticking to his skin and nails, even so, he continued to whistle delightedly. Those scarlet eyes of his slowly closed as he tunes his lips, all the while spraying antiseptic and rewrapping the strings of white cloth on their injuries. The sleeping man's closed eyes would furrow at the undoubted discomfort from the sting of medication, but at the man's soothing hums would those bushed brows softened and smooth, again.

The chilly night wind dripped with the scent of septic, gradually getting stronger and stronger. The peaceful melody continued to simply flow from his lyrical sense to provide comfort for the sleeping one. He would chase those unhealthy terrors of his nights away; and if he could, he would strangle them all into oblivion. Despite such twisted darkness within, the man remained controllably calm, delightful even, that was an off-putting scene to one who knew of the true bloodied nature lurking beneath the suit of this being.

The female stayed silent even as she observed the one-sided interaction. The quiet motor of the boat and the humming seemingly bled together in a symphony. 

The streamlined boat swiftly whirled into the dead of night, hidden by the mystifying waters. It will disappear into the night, and never again will it visit these shores. 

A serene scene as this will be left as but a beautiful serenade to illustrate.

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


"See this here?" I pointed to the end of the rod, there was a handmade feathery bulb swaying on it. "That's our bait. Excite the fish into giving chase, so that even though it may not be hungry, it will instinctively want to bite. Lure it, and then reel it in." 

The young man seemed to soak in my every word like memory foam, so much like a memory that was laid deep inside of the barred locks in my head. 

"Got it?"

"Got it!" Gray-ish emerald eyes beamed back up at me.

The deep blue ripples suddenly opened, revealing sleek dorsal fins.

He tossed the end of the fishing pole out into the water, wading the feathered bulb end as if a small fish itself. 

It took the bait. 

The still sea began to ripple and rift and the boy's smaller hands gripped the end of the fishing rod tighter, as it was his lifeline. The once calmed water splashed and rippled as the flipping sea creature furiously fought back, tugging harder and savager as the boy tried to reel it in by himself. I don't think I imagined those black jagged teeth glinting from the water.

An unnaturally hard tug had almost taken the boy down with the rod, had I not gripped my palms around his small arms, pulling him back. 

_ Thump-Thump-Thump.  _

It was a fighter, this one — a dangerous one. 

My instincts slithered to my ears, whispering how glorious it would be to defeat the water creature. I could feel an affinity to it. I can understand its wants, and it wanted alright — it wanted its perceived prey. The grumbling growls beneath the reflecting waves were ready to fight tooth and nail.

I tightened my grip around the boy's hands as I would my old fishing rod. Steadying his hold on the fishing rod, we both combined our strength to attempt to reel the large thing in.

The organ between the ribs of my chest thumped louder and louder, and louder, that I felt as if my ears must be bleeding from all the noise. 

The howling thumps grew as the fight dragged on. It was clear that the sea creature was hell-bent on tugging me down with its prey. My blood vibrated through my arteries and veins. The excitement overflowed within me at the prospect of capturing such a powerful fighting beast. It was a deliciously intoxicating thing.

_ Bzzzzt! _

A weird static began flooding my ears, like a signal.

"PULL!" I ordered. 

Both of our arms reeled up at the same time. And with a loud pop, a large figure shot out. Dancing water crystals spun from its fins as it was still tightly clenched onto the bait. As I marveled at the apparent size, I quickly furrowed my eyebrows at the difficulty to see its features. It was dark as if one blob. Nonetheless, I smiled proudly at the large catch, then at the boy.

_ BZZZT! _

The static became louder, grating even.

The blob of a creature's body meekly squirmed as it floated on the thread of the wire. 

However, the thrill of the hunt was soon replaced by a pounding confusion. My brain reeled as hard as the fishing rod. It was scorchingly hot as if my brain were frying something in there. 

_ What's happening to me?... _

Suddenly, a smile and a low and soft voice slowly numbed into barely audible ticks in my head. 

_ Hmm-Hmmm-Hmm-Hmm.  _

It was a low sound, calm, and oddly, soothing.

_ A song? _

The burning sensation was instantly replaced by the warmth that fluttered through the dark locks of my hair. The touch was an act of intimacy, that which I didn't know I was desperate for.

As I reveled in the warmth like the burning sun like a moth to a flame, green eyes looked to me with growing worry. The victory over the fish was no longer at the forefront of our thoughts.

"It's time to wake up, Will." 

_ That same voice....  _ charmingly whispered to me.

. . . . . . .  _.~Sswish~ _ . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . _ ~Sswish~ _ . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . .  _.~Sswish~ _ . . . . . . . .

The ringing gongs of a harrowing bell was suddenly struck. And it obsessively rang and rang. The blistering melody bled the colors of my vision, and the boy faded into it as if he had just simply vanished. 

The clamoring of bells caused me to stumble forward. As if vines from the rippled water had wrapped around my ankles, I felt a hard tug with my fall. The sting of salt felt sharp as knives, and wind brushing around my body was like a merciless judge. The dark sea was going to be my final executioner.

"....WILLLL!!"

The dark blob seemed to screech as two emerald green orbs gleaned eerily from a body so pitch black.

_ Hmm-Hmmm-Hmm-Hmm. _

_ Humming... _

The warmth from the smoothness of a throat whistled sweetly into my ears.

_ Who was humming again? _

I couldn't feel the tang of black sea water spilling into my lungs anymore. It was as if something had cut through it, like a glow from the sword of a knight from those tales told to children. A valiant strength that mercilessly cuts through even a dragon's scales. And despite its dangerous strength, its voice was soothing to me, like a lullaby.

"Will?" 

It was a kind and patient voice. 

I could feel that there was a trace of amusement, it slithered through his sharp smiling teeth that would make even an alligator jealous. But I didn't mind. I needed this warmth — this calm heartbeat that belonged to someone else.

At the sing-song of the voice, the water beasts all seemingly gone, as if suddenly snapped away into nonexistence. And only the eerie still waves remained. 

The skies were void and empty as drywall and the sea like a blank gray canvas.  _ But, I want to reach it... _

The skies seemed to grow darker.  _ I want to reach, that warmness... that voice...  _

The waves seemed too scared to flow against the wishes of this being. I think...  _ I think I've swum against this before, and that only I had been successful. _

My hand unconsciously leaped out towards that source of warmth, not wanting to lose it....  _ again. _

Suddenly, I blinked. And for a long while, I just laid there, not knowing where I was, who I was, or why I was there. 

The vast blue hues smiling down from above me were a little too bright for a person with my personality and disposition. I have become too accustomed to hiding my true self away from the light. And I have learned to detest being on the other end of a microscope.

Reaching out, my hand lingered over nothingness, the warmth now all seemed so fleetingly far away. My hand could only fruitlessly touch the air that was as achingly empty as the metaphorical hole inside myself. 

There was no one beside me...

  
  


I blinked again, this time opening my real eyes. Again, I just blankly stared up, but at the tint of a slightly yellowish ceiling above me. The gawking of seagulls in the distance acted as my alarm clock, which brought a cruel reality back into the focus of my two sockets. The natural bird sounds echoed me back into which life I was in, right now. All while the sting of early yellow light bled over my scrunched pupils. 

The white noise of wavering ripples of ocean water in the background was an oddly soothing lullaby. They swished and swished in that nostalgic way. My nerves had always been soothed by the run of the streams and rivers. But I was glad that for once, I wasn't running from a nightly terror right up until the end. Rather, I would kill to have more of these serene endings where I have the silence to conjure my thoughts.

Finally deciding to put my body to better use, I tugged the sheets off of my waist. Still relaxed enough, my mouth gaped in a casual yawn. I have never felt this well-rested before. I almost wished that I could just simply lie back down in the white waves of the mismatched fabrics and go back to that peaceful dream. My body has never felt so relaxed before. But, there are things to maintain, and jobs to do.

I stood and folded the sheets over the hard mattress I was given to use. It was a habit deeply instilled into me as a little cub. 

I changed into the proper attire for today, making sure that my rubber suit for fishing deep in the ocean wouldn't come loose. Turning the knob of my door, I headed out into the hallway.

What greeted me first thing in the morning was the sight of Aidan waiting for me right outside. He sat against the wall with half-opened eyes due to what appeared to be from napping.

"He who does not work, shall not eat," I told him, smirking past the young man and alerting him of my presence.

The skittish young man slightly jumped. "Well-well y-you just woke up to-too! I should say the-the-same t-to you, Will." He fussed and ranted back at me. 

"What a sharp tongue you've grown." I chuckled.

He's been showing so much more emotions these days. It was a great thing.

He followed right next to me, seemingly embarrassed at losing his temper at me like that. I reassured him that I didn't mind, however. He matched his pace with mine as we went through the halls towards the mess hall.

"Hey, have you heard the news on the radio?" 

The same old entertainment on the ship was news and gossip, as per usual.

I still receive many side glances from the people around us. Many curious and some with furrowed brows as if I had cheated them in a bet. Though no one seemed to step up for another form of entertainment, not yet anyway.

"Will!" A voice too happy for the morning hollered my name, drawing so much unnecessary attention.

Sighing, _ well what can you do.  _

As Aidan and I both walked up to him, we passed by several more other people. And their whispered gossip and hushed theories stained the air.

"Heard on the radio that they found several dead bodies washed up on the beach. Several different beaches. Some got their eyes and hearts plucked out."

"Yikes, scary."

"But, you know.... do you think it's the Ripper?"

"Those women were missing organs, right....?"

"Yeah right, the Ripper's ghost perhaps!"

_ The... The Ripper's ghost?  _ I froze, slight shock warped my body.

_ He's... _

"Hmm?" Aidan tugged at my arm, confused at my sudden stop. His voice was able to pull me back from my headspace. "S-something the ma-matter?"

"N-no, I'm okay, just suddenly thought of something, don't mind." My voice steadied itself from the years of practice I've accumulated. I'm still unsure how exactly I feel about how naturally deception came to me. My head was in a mess as it always has been.

Taking a seat at the blonde's table, Aidan sat with a slightly disappointed look that he quickly turned away from me.

"Good news, guys." Nolan chirped, unaware. "After a few days of talking with everyone, Harrison found that there were more witnesses to your little scuffle with Curtis. He ruled that you were acting purely in self-defense." 

Aidan's head at the peripheral of my vision visibly nodded. He seemed very happy with this piece of information. 

"Of course, some pesky people were objecting based on their delusions," he spat. "Curtis had downright charged at you. That already warranted using more force since he was attacking you, or so said the multiple people — that Harrison and Joshua have asked, so you're completely in the clear. And don't worry, I'm also on your side!"

"Will, tha-that's great n-news!" 

"Yeah, now hopefully that buffoon will finally stop harassing the younger crewmates and finally get punished for being such an asshat." Nolan quite darkly grinned at that.

"What about those friends of his, you mentioned before?" I could still feel that there were three types of gazes searing my back, nonchalant ones, curious ones, and retribution seekers.

"I mean," Nolan coughed awkwardly, "They'll be pretty stupid or insane to outright start any fights with you. That'll just get them tossed out of the boat by Harrison himself, at that. I bet he wouldn't care that we are still hundreds of miles from any of the closest ports." 

_ Still that far away, huh. _

He joked. "You're also a force to be reckoned with. See if they have the guts to try anything funny." 

_ There's always the chance of one of them being as crazy as me. _

I kept that stray thought to myself, however.

"Hey, cheer up, Will." Nolan attempted to brighten back the mood, though I wasn't particularly feeling down about such insignificant pests. "You've actually got quite a bit of people who admire you." I looked at him dubiously, with a look that says 'come now, you must be pulling my leg.' "Geez, you must know by now. You're seen as 'The new guy that's as strong as a bull.'" He nudged my shoulder. "All the people who vouched for you are the thankful guys who you've helped out several times on the boat."

"No... I didn't know, I'm not that sociable, so I never imagined."

"Well, I'm talking to you quite fine, aren't I?"

"I-including me!" Aidan instantly raised his arm and puffed his small chest, standing over the table to look Nolan down, challenging.

"Oh? Haha, yes Aidan, of course, you're Will's number one fan." Nolan stretched a hand out onto Aidan's mop of curls, playfully ruffling his hair. "But I'm his biggest fan." He teased with a smirk that'll make Cheshire proud.

Though slightly annoying, since I wanted this time to peacefully have my breakfast — the most important meal of the day — it tingles ever so slightly to be able to feel so normal. But.... that conversation earlier still disturbed me. I need to find out more, talk to them and ask them what else they knew about those killings.

Aidan was talking more, a sign of his built-up confidence despite his low self-esteem and his negative perception about his speech impediment. It was the reason he had been a quiet kid. It was a shame about how many ignorant people there are in the world. I had been forced to grow up quickly as well, because of my unfortunate environment.

"H-hey...." I tried to start, unsure if I wanted to ruin such a mood. As I was meandering with my thoughts, I noticed that Nolan's hazel-brown eyes had become distracted. He wasn't looking at me, but rather he looked like he was focused on something over my shoulder. "Yes," I turned around, curious as to why this man was here, "is there something I can help you with?"

"Ah, yes," He was a seemingly timid man with short, slightly spiky dark brown hair and pale gray eyes. Looking at him directly, he felt like a rabid rabbit that had a hidden stash of bloody carrots. The man barely even fluttered a direct look at me. And I applaud such amazing actors.

"Who are you?" I tested.

Nolan and Aidan exchanged confused faces with each other.

"Oh right," the gray-eyed man continued, still keeping his eyes downward, "sorry, I didn't introduce my name the last time. The name's Jaden, Bridges — Jaden Bridges." He finally looked up. "Younger brother of Curtis," he said with an appealing smile, his eyes didn't once change. "I'm sure you know of him."

I hummed.

"I do. You need something from me, then?" My expression was a practice of courteousness, but my voice remained frigid as the ice caps. "Revenge, perhaps?"

The man looked adequately shocked as he flinched back. "Heavens no! I would never stoop so low as that." He said adamantly.

_ Interesting. _

Truly intrigued, I decided to play some more.

"Apologies, it's just that I've been needing to watch my back for quite some time now." I maintained my person suit of a victim who had needed to defend themselves.

"Understandable," Curtis' brother accepted, "though I was a little offended that you would think such of me." He drew the image of a kicked puppy. "Please do not worry, I recognize the fault in my brother's actions and support you. I have been on the receiving end of his bouts of unreasonable anger many times since we were little, so I understand completely. I always wish that he were not such a person, but you know, you don't get to choose family, but you do get to learn to love them all the same. If you ever need any assistance with anything, please don't be hesitant to ask it of me." The man bowed his head. 

He took my nod as an acceptance of his little speech. However, truthfully it felt more like hubris to claim to be able to understand me.  _ How absurd. _ It is a folly of humanity to greedily seek to act as if they were sympathetic or empathetic. The latter of which would be even further insulting of me. There is no one else on this Earth-like me.

But I guess, it also just shows my human quality to be able to diplomatically go along with it.

"Really," Nolan broke the awkward silence, "how the fuck are those two brothers? Like their personalities are further apart than the stars and galaxies up there."

That did earn a chuckle out of me. "You don't really know a person, or monster until you look directly through to their soul." The fleeting image escaped me.

"I guess, but still." 

"Well, anyway," I sighed with a soft smile that wasn't hidden. Interesting cats and mice are wagging their tails today. "C'mon, there are jobs to do." I reassuringly patted Aidan's soft curls, but maybe it was to comfort myself more.

"Yeah, Nolan, W-will likes me more." Aidan stuck his tongue out childishly while bouncing to my side. He was still ruffled from Nolan's teasing of him earlier.

"Brat." The man retorted with his childish mockery, while also bouncing and grabbing my other hand.

"You're both brats." I snapped, breaking my arm away from Nolan. "You sure don't look nor act your age." But I had oddly joined in their little game by admonishing them.

_ When did I become the straight man in a comedy trio? _

"Will is so mean," the blonde teased, "but I'll take that age one as a compliment."

"You're annoy-annoying him."

"Hoho, Aidan's grown some balls, has he?" The blonde continued to tease the younger. They would look like a pair of close brothers to any stranger walking by.

And I couldn't help myself but smile at them. Even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to remember a time when I felt more normal than I did here, at this moment. But I knew it wouldn't last, not forever. Perhaps as another eternal sketch in the place of my mind, that I could revisit....when I wish to.

I walked briskly, not wanting to get too absorbed and distracted by Nolan's antics with Aidan.

There are many things I need to prioritize right now, and enough things rattling through my head. I've never been the type to deeply attach myself to things, even as a child. But there was always that one exception. However, distractions are exactly what they are — distractions. And good distractions serve as the best cover.

When the three of us arrived on the deck, we stood in witness of a growing beast. The waves today seemed angrier than usual, more ravenous and brutal. Blue and gray ripples spun and hurled slamming wave after, slamming wave against the front and back sides of the boat. It is no wonder since it does have the glorious title as The Sea of Atlas.

"It's going to be a supermoon tonight." Nolan sighed with a frown, but I didn't know what he meant actually by that term.

"But today is the prime time to catch them." Said one gruff man to Nolan. "The high-risk rewards are worth it." 

"Supermoons are exciting." Another man chipped in, he looked considerably younger than me, the early twenties perhaps, but probably older than Aidan. He gave an expectant glance at me. "I'm Elias, by the way." The young man introduced himself with an extended hand to me, his eyes young and bright like the sun. "You know, that was so awesome how you easily clocked Curtis in his jaw like that!"

There was an audible snort directed behind my back.

"Will." I acknowledged the young man with a curt shake of his hand.

I didn't bother at the obvious grumbling and gossip, but Nolan did glance back.

"Don't bother with them." Said Nolan. "Men can be stupidly jealous creatures. And it's stupid, right? Just cuz Harrison thinks highly of you." He grumbled. "They should just go to grade school since they act as if they attend one." Irritation in his snap.

"Oh, nice one Nolan!" The young man gave Nolan a high-five, and the blonde easily went along with the younger's high energy. The young man's silver-white hair looked as if it bounced with every cheeky, exaggerated motion — just too full of energy. But he also seemed exotic somehow, given the subtle European accent lacing his every word, and that striking hair color of his.

Meanwhile, Aidan courteously smiled towards the group that snickered at my back. His fluff of dark curls seemed like horns from this angle. "Got something to say?" He smiled sweetly, I doubt anyone has seen the boy like this before. Paired with the coldness in his voice that lowered the temperature on the entire deck, he was an unknown menace, a wolf in sheep's clothing.

The cowardly group seemed to scramble away, taken aback from the unexpected fierceness in his green eyes.

Elias quickly turned back towards me, and thus began the barrage of things. "Anyways, how old are you, Will? How long have you been fishing for, Will? I heard you like to fly-fish! Where'd you learn to scuffle like that? You're mentoring Aidan, right? Can you teach me too?" His youthful energy gave him the advantage of barraging me with too many things at once. Honestly, I can't keep up with that. Aidan at least was the quiet and reserved type who does things at his known pace. But this guy acts like everything is going at his high-speed pace.

I looked to Aidan, and he also didn't seem to be faring too well. The confident bite in his expression and movement from earlier was nowhere to be seen now. So it seemed like the energetic nature of this young man didn't mesh well with him, instead, it made his eyes dizzy.

Just as Elias looked like he wanted to chirp about more things, a booming voice thankfully came from an irked Harrison. His commanding voice displaced the young man's attention away from his interest in me. Sometimes I feel that he was an empath like me, with those kinds of timings.

With a disappointed look, the young man sped away like a rabbit. He hopped himself over towards the cages that he must have been assigned to tend.

"See," Nolan nudged my shoulder. "I told you that you've got fans here."

"You sure that it's just not another form of harassment?"

"Shesh," Nolan gaped in amusement, "harsh much."

I chuckled in response.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"Woooh! Boys! We're feasting tonight!" Harrison yelled merrily.

The clambering cages are hauled onto the deck, all of them filled to the brim with hundreds of cash crabs. The crustaceans were bunched close and even squabbled with each other. Though the large size of their claws was a danger, they were the most tantalizing parts that are certainly filled with juicy treats.

"What a bounty!" The fishermen all cheered. 

I tied off the rope on a circular reel, preventing the cage from plunging back down into the water. Aidan is beside me helping me with that. The both of us walked towards the rest of the guys once we were done. While I didn't feel much from this accomplishment, Aidan's eyes were another story — they were full of wonder. I could feel the electrifying emotion running through him at having helped the crew accomplish their biggest haul, yet. And I guess...I couldn't be any more proud and happy for him. 

I smiled at that thought, seeming as if I was celebrating much like the rest of the crew were. "You did well." I patted his back, offering him courage.

The young man brightened. Turning his gaze, he looked fondly back at the similarly proud expression Harrison directed at him.

"Cheers!"

As usual, the familiar blonde's voice seemed to grab the center of attention, often. I did wonder quite a bit — that a social butterfly as he found my introverted company even remotely tolerable. I suppose that isn't a dislikable trait, although, I am reluctant to admit that; the happy-go-lucky man didn't need another boost to his ego.

"Hey Joshua, ya copy?" Nolan's excited voice beeped the radio in his hand. "This is the biggest catch for us yet, Captain!" He grinned cheekily. But, the radio remained eerily silent. There was only static on the other side, no trace of the man's voice.

"Nolan, what's happened?" Harrison walked over in concern.

"I'm getting heavy interference. And he's not responding." He tried again. "Joshua?"

Silence.

_ Brrrrrt-Szzzt. _

Only the crippled static of a signal bled through.

"Let me try radioing in as well," the older man pulled his hand-held radio up. "Josh—" The boat suddenly lurched.

"W--v-e—W-a-t--h—O--t!!!!!" A sudden cut and choppily frantic yell came through all the heavy static that blared into everyone's radios. But it was already too late... Tonight was a supermoon.

_ THUNDER! _

_ CLANK! _

_ CRASH! _

A thirty-foot wave suddenly appeared from the dark ocean.

The boat rattled violently as the violent wave swept over the entire boat, filling our lungs with the sting of salt.

"MAN OVERBOARD!" His usually ordered and calm voice viciously coughed from the other side of the large boat, howling through the deadly barrage as loud as his lungs could manage.

"Get him out of the water! Get him out of the water!" Another man frantically ordered, the raining droplets still bulleting down on us.

"Man overboard!" More people cried in urgency. The dark waves below were seeming more and more like a deadly abyss staring back at us.

Scrabbling heavy-duty boots instantly pounded across the boards of the deck as quickly as they could. It was unbelievable timing as these vicious crabs began rattling within their cages, threatening to break loose. 

Before the crew could even rush in to aid the man overboard, like lightning, the deck was struck again by another large wave out of nowhere. The wave towered at over forty feet and smashed right into the boat. The cracking sound as if a dent would be left behind.

Gurgled voices screeched as the mess of previously celebrating bodies tried to scramble in the oncoming waves flooding the deck.

"Man overboard!" The urgent cries continued. But with these kinds of waves, it was in the back of every person's mind that he may be already lost...

The water beasts swooshed over and over, ripping the one-hundred and fifty-pound coiler off the deck. 

A silver blur suddenly ran past me, tossing a roped life ring out into the waves. He was in a direct line of danger. He didn't see it. He wouldn't be able to react quickly enough. 

Nearly crushing both him and myself, I tugged the younger's hood back as the coiler unhinged completely and rolled over, crushing the boards where our feet had just been planted. Crashing against the side, the heavy piece of equipment broke the guard rails and fell into the dark waves.

There was no time for relief, however; the cages were toppling one by one, surrounding us in a horrifying dance with the water beasts from the sea of Atlas acting as if it were the conductor.

My balance was lost, and for a moment I tumbled. I felt.... something grip the cloth of my arms, steadying me. I was able to regain my balance due to the arm pulling me. 

But, just as relief escaped my lips, I felt a prickle in my mind — an instinctual growl from my hidden self that warned me of danger. 

Before I could even pull myself away, the firm grip suddenly dragged me forward. Metallic clangs sang through my ears. The seas all blurred with a whip. The razor winds sailed past me as I was flung like a football. My feet floated, and just like that, I was whisked into danger, thrown away, and swept under the rug of toppling towers of dark carbon black cages.

_ CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! _

"w—" . . .

"....WILLLL!!"

  
  


~•●🔴●•~

.

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

The ocean was peaceful, a serene place one may use to gather one's thoughts. The quiet rickety-rickety and the shimmering waves were a soothing lullaby. Even the moon found beauty in it, bestowing humans the sight of its ethereal light. It was full again. A werewolf's dream. 

Gathering himself from the immersive experience, the man moves his arm slowly, glossing it over the sleeping bundle of soft dark curls that many would-be green-eyed to. In his other hand held a pencil and sketchbook. 

As the amber-eyed man ruffled through curly locks, his face still looked as dark as ever, still expressionless, and still as fathomless, maybe even more so now. He had always been unknown like an endless abyss. There are always exceptions to every rule, however. There was one thing — only one other who had been truly able to read and understand his unique darkness and all of its complex glory. Just that one person; one that had the capability of understanding him; one that was an immensely rare thing; one that was the most valuable of treasures. He shed his human suit entirely in front of this treasure. And much like a dragon who covets its shiny artifacts, he desires to be the only one to hoard him. And guard, he shall, his treasure with all the fire his breath can muster, and extinguish their enemies until nothing remains but his treasure and himself.

Amber glowed into crimson under the moonlight, turning into black like the thickening of spilled blood.

He hummed while the waves continued to slush peacefully. The woman at the stern had turned the motor off, for the time being, allowing the wind to push them along their sails. So there was only him and the younger man in the vessel's bow cockpit, easily mistakably for a luxurious date night was the image they appear to be together. The humming man gently caressed dark chocolate curls along the smooth sand-colored skin.

The small motorboat had been ditched very early on in favor of his yacht, one which he saved for a rainy day — a very rainy day. Onboard the yacht was enough luxuries and necessities to see the three of them through for a very long time, months or a year even. And it has already been quite some time since their journey.

Despite the younger man's wounds wonderfully healing without much complication, the older would sometimes observe the younger awaken, but remained in a seemingly delirious state. He only kept his azure crystal eyes open long enough to just as quickly fall back into his dreamful spell. It was fleeting and the man found he dearly missed seeing them open for longer periods. 

The younger man also didn't seem to be coherent enough to properly process anything in his beautiful mind. For there was barely any interval he was seemingly awake for long enough to make any decent conversation. It was as if he didn't want to awaken from a sleep he could keep pretending in.

But the amber-eyed man was patient, he had been for a very long time. And he would be this time, too.

  
  


~•●🔴●•~

  
  


_ SQUAWK!  _

Awakened by the morning gulls that relished in the spunky fish of the waters and the brightness of the sun that hovered around noon. 

The white fishing birds had been active for quite some time already. They've made themselves at home by sitting on the windows in front of the stern, uncaring of the view they would block for the woman. But it would seem that the bothersome seagulls have finally irked her for the last time, for she slammed the stern door wide open and shot not her usual rifle, but a harpoon. The resulting scared squawking was a horrendous symphony, followed by the ash blonde's entertained chuckles. He hadn't had fresh bird meat in quite a while,  _ it'll be interesting. _

As the woman collected the fallen birds that were a little too slow, a low sound whimpered softly.

The man turned around, already sighing that this is just another false alert.

_ Blink-Blink. _

The man's amber eyes also suddenly blinked, but in surprise. His eyes trained on wide stormy azure orbs, which also stared back with thoughts bubbling to the surface.

The man had felt a sudden shift in his body, and he practically sprinted to the side of the laying man. The harpooning woman also shifted in surprise at the man's sudden movement, tracking down whatever had surprised him.

When she also walked through the door, the brightness in those open blue jewels left her flabbergasted. 

With both conflicting sensations of anticipation and possible disappointment ready, the man snapped his gaze down at the sleepful body. But...contrary to his many previous defeats, contrasting hues on the color wheel connected. A warm fire to a cool sea, a ruby to a sapphire. 

There was a challenge in those blue hues. The imaginative swirling thoughts behind those blue orbs attempted to pull together a coherent story; however, they would still gaze somewhat absently, as if unsure of himself. But the older gentleman did not care, all that matters was that he was finally and truly "awake." His hand quickly found itself over the cold and still somewhat numb palms of the one that had just woken from a dream. 

He carefully pulled the younger man’s head to his chest. 

The man's low voice rumbled against his ears. He was kind and patient, and the beat of his heart was soothing for him. Though the blue-eyed man could detect a trace of amusement slithering through the man's sharp smiling teeth, like an alligator's, it was overshadowed by the immense relief he could feel lace over the name that had spilled from the man's witty tongue, with a pleasant expression bordering a zealous worshipper.

"Will?"

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚪●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I like sleeping and have a weird imagination, but this is a bit of a trippy chapter honestly Lol. Like what is happening? I can't tell if Will is dreaming anymore or what's what??? Maybe he just likes dreaming?
> 
> Some Boat Terms:  
>  \- Bow Cockpit - a somewhat enclosed space on deck at the front of the boat that is a general space for socializing; there is also the stern cockpit where the boat is controlled from
> 
> QUOTE REFERENCES:  
> "For ignorance merits punishment. Therefore, ignorance is a sin." —References 1 Corinthians 14:38. (Thank you Google).
> 
> (RANDOM TOPIC:   
> Oh yeah, I was feeling too festive while writing this chapter, for some reason, so here ya go. . .
> 
> "Oh, what fun it is to butcher and keep our bellies sate. OHHhh, wrangle bells, wrangle, wrangle, wrangle pigs all day."
> 
> Not my words (Hannibal's probably) 🤣 Sorry, I get so random sometimes. Anyways, HAPPY THANKSGIVING AND UPCOMING HOLIDAYS! 💖❤ )
> 
> Thank you all so much for the kudos and for reading! It gets my spirits up that there are people interested in it, though I just write it for fun.  
> \- So until next time, cya (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	5. Hunter or Hunted?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’ve always been a hunter, nothing on my tail. But there was something in you, I knew could make that change." —"Become The Beast" by Karliene (A Hannibal Fan Song)

****** 5 ******

The sudden flapping of multiple pairs of what sounded like wings fluttered as if the parting of the sea. In the end, they were animalistic, their instincts led them by the nose, or in this case, by the beak. It felt like the winged ones sensed danger from something. 

_ Step-Step-Step. _

I think another person was approaching.

"So, he's awake." The feminine voice posed as more so a statement than a question. I took a glance at this new stimulus entering the room. A blurry and horrible metallic glint twirled in front of the long black haired figure. The other end of the steel looked like it was plugged by white feathery things, with crimson-colored stains.

Strangely, she sounded....familiar.

"He is." 

I felt odd like I was not on the earth. And I felt as if clouds puffed around me. The floating feeling, the feeling of being unbound, released, freed, enabled me to follow the whispers in the darkest recesses that had been forced to hide far away in the back of my skull, and it was never supposed to see the light of day. I was only dragged back down through the clouds, through the seas, through the bars of my head by this soothing rocking — by this slow-motion beneath my feet, and a voice that promised me true serenity. 

A fleeting image flickered through my head as someone continued to talk to me. But the ringing in the dizzied mush inside of my skull kept me confused, disoriented, and even meek.

_ What happened? _

I could feel my eyeballs roll, still in a daze as they looked around the fine walls and furniture that felt out of place, designs that should be in a five-star hotel, not in this—this....  _ where? _

A lower voice seemed to answer. It was a soothing tone that exuded patience and made me feel more and more like jelly. I could feel my legs shaking, and my arms felt just as feebly numb like a newborn doe.

"We are taking a trip, and right now we are sightseeing in the vast Sea of Atlas." The man's face clear, every expression passing by was controlled, so it became clear that he had practiced it often enough that it slips on so effortlessly. But for some reason, I could tell that his voice exuded excitement like a passionate man who walked a desert and found his oasis. "Did you know that, Will?"

I turned my head up, now staring at a wall past the ear of the man. His prompting had forcibly dug me back into reality.  _ But why did I bother to react to him? _

My eyes rolled back into place, and so I stared at him, and he stared back. Even amidst the storm of thick fog, I could recall something I once read: 'fight not with monsters, lest ye become one, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.' His gaze was deeper than the darkest of night, pitcher than the ugliest of shadows. But it was also a truth that the whites of my eyes could reveal nothing to him, for that's what they held — nothing. These blue orbs of mine were a far cry from the seas of storms they probably once were. And they must have looked as disappointingly empty as the hollowness that clouded through the folds under my skull.

"Can you hear me, Will?" The gentleman probes again. He's easing me into it, maybe even concerned.

"Will?" I parroted, oddly feeling that not answering him at all would have been too rude.

The blonde-haired man perked up at this, albeit only dimly. Simultaneously, I observed the rest of the man with a vision clearer than before. I saw that he seemed to be a well dressed and competent person; one who was comfortable in placing many intricate layers over his skin.

_ Who am I to this man...? _ I pondered. I wandered the branching connections inside of myself, but they all seemed broken, ripped, severed, unusable to me right now, unlike the dark looming branches I see this man peacocking. As more and more thoughts slowly formed into my head, the man seemed to immediately frown at me. The slight curl at the edge of his lips looked as extinguished as the dying flames of a fire.

I curiously watched the man sigh, as slim follicles from his golden bangs lay over his eyelids when he leaned back in the armchair he sat upon. "Repeat after me," he waited for my nod before continuing, no matter how faint and weak it was. "It's 12:34 pm, we're not in any particular city or state. And your name is Will Graham." 

He waited silently, patiently.

But, instead of answering the man right away, I found myself drawn to something — his eyes, they were wonderfully amber. Looking closely, I could see the strings of metaphorical electricity coursing beneath the whites of his eyes, and his light amber truly a dark crimson in nature. Like a shadow beneath the waves that bites and pulls down any hand that strays too close to its domain.

I unconsciously shivered under the presence of his eyes.

"Repeat." He prompted, louder this time, possibly somewhat annoyed by my dragged on silence by now. I imagined the sting from his order as if a slap had dragged me out of the deafening silence within my fizzled mind, for that was what it had felt like under the man's blank scrutiny — a slap to the face.

I swallowed my saliva. 

"I-It's....it's 12:34 pm... Not any particular city, or state. Just....just the sea, the endless sea." I began, then more firmly added, "MY name is  _ Will Graham _ ." A bulb lit up, and following immediately, I bit back at the unnamed man with a stern glare of challenge to his floating crimson orbs. Even a wounded and tamed beast still has its innate instincts deeply ingrained into its genetic code. So often, it is said, that a scared animal will bare its fangs and claws, even at the hand that feeds him.

We remained in a seeming stalemate, blue orbs to redder one's locked in an amused showdown. The room steadily grew uncomfortable as the man tipped his eyes in the appraisal of me, his red like blood eyes lifted as if satisfied with his entertainment. 

Through his musing, I can tell how observant of a man he was as if he always had the lens of a microscope turned on. And with those curls at the edge of his lips, it was obvious that he most certainly didn't bother hiding his dangerous toothy smile. He allowed me to see certain emotions so clearly like a gift hand wrapped and intended only for one.

"The ocean, it was named after a Greek god, the founder of astronomy," I backtracked the conversation, "Homer describes Atlas as 'deadly-minded,' one who knows the depths of the seas, holding up its pillars. He is a God who holds up the heavens and the skies within his palms. Sailors worship at his feet for his knowledge in navigating his treacherous seas. But it is also true that many have died trying to navigate through this nature. It's difficult to go against one's nature, is it not?" I eyed his dubious smile, intently focused on any minuscule detail and wrinkle in those microexpressions of his.

"Wonderful." He responded with a minuscule twinkle in his eyes that had quickly come and gone.

"So, was that what you were looking for, from me?" I raised my eyebrows at the man in defiance. My tongue quickly and easily grew witty, slipping into what I could infer as a habit. And I am left wondering if we had done a similar routine a hundred times? It was too natural not to think of it as such.

The man suddenly drew closer, his lips far too personal than I would have liked. The drivers of my mind halted instantly, eyes preened and claws clenched as I solely focused on the hunter in front of me, because I couldn't afford to.

"Oh, it was much more than that, Will, so much more." A hand subtly slinked to my cheek, and I couldn't hold back a natural bristle. And while he found this amusing, however, I forced myself to be still as he checked the bandaged cloth pressed into the side of my face. I could scent the metallic tang of iron, antiseptic and other medications swirling in the salted air around us, both. It was clear as day that this man treated my injuries, and his own too. I think he did so expertly that it unveils his professional-level of skills, but this man was no mere doctor nor surgeon. I could see it on him; the plated shadows that meticulously hid the terrifying darkness beneath; and sharp tongue knowledgeable on the unknowns and unorthodox.

"Mister, uh...." I warily addressed him, "I should let you know that I will only sheathe my claws once you peel back your person suit of armor." My eyes flashed dangerously. He did not have a single piece of metal on him, but an elegant three-button brown waistcoat and dress pants. It was egotistical, a show of dominance. How I had come to be acquainted with such a man, remained a stressful mystery to me. 

However, it would seem that the woman behind him did not like my antagonistic demeanor. At the smallest hint of my underlying threat, she instantly snapped the harpoon gun towards me, poised and ready to fire at any moment's notice. I continued to hold the man's gaze even as I was threatened by her. She wasn't the most dangerous beast here. But despite the burning glare in my swimming pools, the man didn't even seem bothered. Rather, he had merely chuckled at my threat as if it were such an amazing joke that no one else, but  _ we, _ could understand. Perhaps, this man enjoyed the novelty of an inside joke.

"It's alright," he turned and practically showed his back towards me. He placed a hand to the top of the gun, forcibly causing her to lower its sight down. "Dear Will is simply confused. Such a long way down the cliffs does not occur without repercussion." I had to bite the urge to lunge at him. It would spell my death, but staying quiet and meek may also spell my death. "I suspected worse than just a bleeding cheek may have been inflicted, but all are within my predictions." The man must have an inkling of my inner turmoil since he had so graciously offered his divided attention. 

I kept my claws sheathe. And I swear I could just see the curve of a grin on his arrogant face.

The man slowly turned his attention back onto me. "So Will, I am treating you. Therefore, there is no need to worry. I will make sure that you are as good as new — as new as you 'Will'  _ ever _ be." He grinned nearly at the end. And then I understood that he is the nasty type to hide in plain sight.

I narrowed my eyes and looked at him with distrust. The mirth in his tone and his every purposeful movement screamed bitter travesty at me. But I don't know why; I don't know why I feel this way; I don't know why his every word seems to drip with poison; I don't even know where this man is taking me, nor why he treated my wounds.  _ Who and what kind of monster is he? _

"Do you remember my name?" He questioned, curious and inquisitive. The woman's eyes darkened at every passing second.

_ Is this a trick question??  _ I thought hard, harshly trying to claw for any piece of information that was deeply submerged within the complex but broken branches of my psyche. The leafless branches were still barely tethered together. The man seemed to notice; he always notices several things. But I felt thankful — strangely — that his eyes never delved into pity, instead he offered understanding and acceptance of what is and has become my apparent reality. And I think I greatly appreciated that.

"You were damaged, irrevocably so." The man's expression softened at me, demonstrating a hint of revelry. "It is a passage, a rite, one which only you have successfully bled and conquered. So many before had burned when they have tried to walk through a similar forge and fire. But you....you are beautiful — a mind so unique and capable, and yet so fragile like glass. What you have is pure empathy."

I did not understand. And I don't think I wanted to understand him later down this road. But I think — I think I once thought that by wading through the darkest corners of my mind, I could utilize it to destroy another's darkness. But what happened to my own? The shadows seemed to encroach into my brain. I found it — I think that I must have found that I didn't mind  _ his _ waking nightmares coloring (poisoning) my world. I know this now because I don't feel repulsed as I should be. I see the beauty in the things he must have done, a form of art. It is like we are on a single track, and it is inevitable for a collision course between two trains to occur. I can't shift the tracks no matter what I do to escape this fate — the controls were never in my hands. There will be but only beautiful wreckage left behind its destructive wake.

I could feel a drop of sweat nervously glide down the side of my cheek. I swallowed a gulp of air down my dried mouth. "I fear that I fear not knowing who I am, more so than not knowing who you are." At this revelation, the man smiled crookedly at me, with ever gleaming sharp white teeth like a dark beast from my terrors. 

There was a small voice that whispered to me that there once was a crooked man, who lived a crooked life. He had a crooked smile. And if you lived his life, he will send you through trial. He lives to give you torment, makes it full of strife. He will never be content until he finally has your life. 

The crooked man was waiting for me.

"What do you want from me?"

"I am, as you say, 'baiting a hook' and dangling it in front of you." He said patiently with a smirk as I squinted at him. The man looked confident and took a stand, the blinding light behind him framed him as pitch-black, fawning over him. His words were still as unclear and dizzying as the fathomless and unseeable darkness and fluidity of his entire being. He was like a sea of blood, dark to the point of black.

"To love is to submit." The man continued while the woman swiftly left with a tired sigh, someone had to pick up all the little birds with broken wings. So it left only him and me in this room together. Though, I thought it unwise to be alone with this oddly charged atmosphere between us.

"For love is like drowning," the man smiled with a sense of contentedness, with a voice that was warm and soothing. "The giving up of everything, all for a singular entity." His voice felt like it carried a confusing and complex ardor on its back. But in some ways, I was glad that we didn't have an audience, for it felt as if we were the only ones left in this world — the only beings on this plane of existence. We walked the same Earth, we trudged along the same path, and we talked with the same chalk. "It's beautiful, in a way."

It was only his voice that both comforts and sends goosebumps crawling all over the suit of my skin, like hundreds of tiny, invisible spider bites injecting their brand of venom into me. Then, the man suddenly leaned forward. He was done weaving his web. The man leaned so close that I could feel the cool breath of mint and grass, and see up close the murk within those swirls of red amber orbs. I stared, glued to those slits of a hunter playfully gauging its prey — its obsession. 

This wasn't normal; I could tell that this wasn't normal. I could feel it, right now, down to the very smallest neuron in my brain. But even as my brain knew so, my body caved to the innate desires kept submerged in my deepest and most hidden. He was the maestro and he took my talent and elevated it to art, a beautiful conducting of a symphony that I was raptured to. It was all inescapable because my empathy forced me to see it all.

"Now Will, what will you submit?"

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


I was dreaming.... falling.... dreaming.... dreaming and falling.... dreaming that I was falling...

The floor felt as if it had opened up like a serpent, swallowing and tasting me with its dark tongue, like the serpent in the garden of Eden that whispers of seductive darkness to the unsuspecting.

Cast onto my eyeballs were the glinting of pale white arms attached to hands, they greeted me as a friend, snaking upwards in reach for me as if yearning to hold me. The pale limbs tugged and scratched at the floorboards wanting to get closer to me, wanting to wrap around and keep me ensnared in them. 

I didn't feel repulsed by it as I had been expecting to. I felt something else, as though something inside of me glowed at this — a realization, I horrifyingly realized. But still, I understand; I understand that something wanted me, that something accepted me. My instinctual need moved me. I was going towards it, going to accept it when no one else would even, ever dare to. Since no one dared to do so for me, then I shall dare.

The moon's white began to bleed away, and changed, transforming into cruel obsidian towers that continued to reach out for me. They were like thorn bushes with dark needles branching ever upward from its waving suit. They encircled me like a cage, blocking out the sun, blocking out the noise, blocking out everything that wasn't itself. To be impaled by them would mean death. But the lines were blurring. And unlike the first time....  _ first time?  _ I voluntarily fell into them. And as I did, I was still oddly wondering... 

  
  


_ What would I submit? _

The faint murmurs from various softened voices chirped around me.

"Hey...."

The murmuring gradually died down, retrieving for me some semblance of peaceful quiet...

"I think he's coming to."

A stinging yellow found itself a home over my eyelids. I couldn't go back to that dark peace, even if I had wanted to. So I decided to pry myself away from the darkness, slowly blinking my eyes open at the real world.

"Will?"

_ Blink-Blink-Blink. _

I stared, unable to find what words I should string together.

"He's— He's awake... He's awake!"

I squinted my eyes at the strong pale fluorescent lights. The sudden loudness of the voice forced open my floodgates, and the stimulus of everything in my surroundings were now all converging into my brain for analysis.

"You're alive!" Firm arms suddenly wrapped around my shoulders.

Confused, I hissed at the flare of pain that sprang up due to the careless contact.

"Oh, sorry!" 

Hearing that voice made it seem like the weight of the world was immediately shifted off of me. The light color of it moved back, shiny hues like the sun. Last I remembered was pulling the young man away from danger, from a large tumbling piece of cylindrical steel.

I turned my eyes and gazed at the crowd hovering closer to me. My vision was gradually unblurred. There were many familiar and unfamiliar faces here I can name.

I looked at the familiar faces with names first, a young man with silver hair, who had an unusual forlorn expression, and the good old gentleman with the ever controlled expressions, and a young man with tearful green eyes. 

"What happened?" I asked in blatant confusion. The energy in this room was all over the place. "Where am I?"

"Well," Harrison was uncharacteristically hesitant when he spoke up. Barely noticeable was how his voice so very subtly shook with every word. "You're in the medical room. You see, it was a terrible emergency and accident. The worst one we've had for over two decades." His voice seemed to have lost its way, lodged in the constricting muscles of his throat. "This— this is a very difficult thing to say....but....but he's gone, Will... He's gone."

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


That night I didn't dare enter my night realm. . .

I tore the feathers and cotton from the single pillow under my head. 

I clawed and clawed, anxiety-filled anger and bitten nails raking with untamed fury. 

I felt a profound sadness, a horrid wave of grief that I had once come to know for a woman I considered truly one of my friends. Ironically, she was ended by the hand of another I had considered a  _ friend.  _ And now, I am faced with that sense of loss once again.

The darker beast inside sought an outlet, anything, just so long as it would release some of the divine retribution I wanted to bleed. I saw red, distorted feelings taking over. The closest inanimate objects were utterly wrecked. Thrown glass cups and plucked feathers.

I sighed.  _ I'll clean it up later. _ I felt enough remorse, even during my turmoil, to do that at least.

I had previously paid no heed to the burning stings that flowed crimson as they slid down my knuckles, tiny flecks of glass having cut at them. I could register their stings now. It is some form of punishment onto myself, I guess... Otherwise, I would have gone crazy. 

I can't even remember the last time my beast wanted to be freed as much as it did now; it was still prowling in the darkest parts of my mind, waiting for the right moment to take the crown from me and have its way. 

The angry howls finally went silent, but my chest still felt as if it were being torn apart. It was heart-rendering, heart-tearing, and heart-crushing. The thud and thud echoed loudly through the drums of my ears, perfectly centered like an X that marks the spot. My silent tears that now the only place left for him was within my memory palace. It was too soon, far too soon and so very quick. The reality of it all was still trying to catch up to it. But, I couldn't stop. I couldn't help seeing the blood. I couldn't help the darkness. 

Vengeance purred into my ears, and it sounded — divine...

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


The liquor was bitter, all it did was extend the bitter aftertaste on my tongue. The failure and defeat of yesterday night still lingered so heavily in the minds of every fisherman and sailor on this boat. Even if we drank, the atmosphere was stained with a sorrowful melancholy.

"C'mon~ Will." A young man drinking right next to me groaned. It was as if he had regressed into a grade-schooler.

I sighed in exasperation, but for some reason, I couldn't find it in myself to leave the man to his own devices. I understood him even if I didn't want to, my body's constitution just didn't allow it.

"You drank too much. Those that don't know their limitations shouldn't be testing them in the first place." I merely glanced at the silver-haired man-child, finishing my glass of whiskey.

"I know... I know that..." 

Where did all that boundless energy run off to now? That sulking frown doesn't suit him.

The young man began to sniffle, but he adamantly kept his crying noises as low as possible in hopes that nobody heard him. "If... if only I had run faster....tossed the ring out faster....then maybe...."

I felt soft bright follicles through the tips of my fingers. "Stop drinking now, you man-child." I chastised while uncharacteristically comforting the youngster with a gentle touch.

"That's so mean." He slightly chuckled at this, the corners of his lips curving more. "There's more re~ reason to drink tonight...." he seemed to regress again, but shot back up like a sponge, "I finally got the chance to talk to you and become your friend." His eyes like the sun glittered, and the fringes of his ears and cheeks puffed rosily.

I huffed a sigh, smiling on the inside. "As I recall, you one-sidedly declared us friends."

"Aww~ but won't you be~ a kind dar~ling," *hiccup* "kind enough to bring me some Aspirin? Sorry, my head feels like it's about to explode." His forlorn expression quickly shifted into that annoyingly cheeky smile.

"Who are you calling, dar~ling." I inflected back, my voice hardly as stern and aloof as usual.

"Yeesh... You guys act-act like a married c-couple." Aidan rolled his eyes, he was sitting in front of us. His expression clearly showed his distaste of the man close to his age, for he was more so like a drowned cat than the blubbering ball of energy he was before. The green-eyed boy snapped around and got up to get several bottles of water, most likely more so for Elias' sake than mine.

"Heh~ well you heard him dar~ling." Elias continued with cocky confidence. Maybe I shouldn't have cheered him up. "Aspirin, please?"

"You cheeky bastard." I locked an arm around his neck and ruffled the drunkard's hair.

"Uncle! Uncle!" He wailed. That got a good chuckle from the other people in the large room.

I strode away from the table after finishing up my lesson in teaching the youngster not to mess with those older than them. The atmosphere was hardly suitable for a feast as I walked through the mess hall and out into the hallways, heading towards a certain bird to pluck something from its feathers.

_ Knock-Knock-Knock—  _ "It's open." Came a voice from the other side of a white metallic door. 

I turned the knob and slowly entered.

"Oh," the man with loose lips and nature as finicky as a porcupine noticeably stiffened, and hair like fallen leaves. "It's you." He subtly moved his chair slightly backward.

"Doctor," I nodded to him, shutting the door behind me, prowling closer to him.

"Dr. Reza." He said, "Please use my proper title." The young brownish-blonde-haired man eyed me warily, with unmarred skin almost as if bronze armor protected him.

"My apologies,  _ Doctor, _ you've never introduced your name to me before this second official meeting of ours."

He huffed in annoyance. "Hmph. Joris Reza. So, what do you want? If you don't need anything, then get out, you're intruding on my valuable time."

I held back the growl that unwittingly wanted to lash out at this little bird. I gave him a pointed look, instead. "You aren't with the rest of the crew comforting each other." I small-talked.

"Well, I'm busy, as you can see," he opened his hands towards the scribbled writings attached to several bottles of medicine. "Your point?"

I willed my metaphorical claws to stay sheathed. "Aspirin please, my friend and I require it due to our injuries, but mostly due to some horrible decision-making."

The man a few years younger than me thought for a moment. He then slowly got up, heading towards his right, and opened a black cabinet, all the while purposefully keeping at least one eye on me. I kept a professional distance away.

"Here." A fairly large bottle of the pills is abruptly tossed to me. "There is more than enough in there to last the rest of the fishing job. But if your friend needs more, he can just come to see me directly, don't bother coming yourself." The implication is there. He narrowed his eyes with the insinuation, releasing another stiff and nervous huff under his breath. He waved a hand. It was a dismissive action to send me on my way. 

But I didn't once move. Feet remaining planted as I stared the man down. And I couldn't help the back of my mind from relishing in how off-putting my presence was to this man, like how a mouse instinctively knows never to wander under open skies, lest a hawk swoops by. And I watched him like a bird of prey that plays with its little itty bitty mouse.

"Mr. Will," he bravely raised his voice again at the sudden change in my demeanor, and at the fact that I wasn't leaving right away. "What exactly have I done to incur such ire from you?" The price one pays for being rude.

"Are you mistaken, since when have I been discourteous with you, Doctor?" I simply gave him a toothy smile. The subtle flinch in his eyes was so like Lounds. He desired to seem strong, but ultimately a chameleon could only change its color, not its nature. "Though, I can't say that you've shown me the same." Finally satisfied, I smiled and took my leave, uncaring of whatever refute was slithering up his shocked tongue. 

I walked out of his office with my back turned towards the younger man.  _ After all, there is no need to be cautious around a baby chick. _

As I carefully closed the door to not be rude, green orbs caught me by surprise, which doesn't usually happen often.

"I heard you.... you know." 

"You were there?" I glanced at the boy in morbid curiosity. "How long were you standing there, listening?"

"How about you answer my questions first." The young man turned into someone unfamiliar to me. And it was exhilarating to see it unveiled.

"Alright." I permitted his rudeness, this once.

"Sometimes.... you seem d-different," his hair seemed to no longer bristle, and his gray-green eyes watched me closely, like a tiger cub learning how to hunt prey. 

I smiled simply. "Do I? I haven't' noticed."

That seemed to get his attention, an unwanted agitation. "Like h-how I heard the way you ta-talk to Dr. Reza. You know what I mean, Will. Don't try to hide it."

I hummed in thought. "Our experiences shape us. Perhaps, I just have many more than you did."

"Don't try to mislead me, I know you, Will," his small fang-like teeth seemed to flash. "I've been known for a wh-while now. But you're not normal."

"Maybe....are you?" I watched the boy, no man, just as closely as he, did I. "I wonder though," I turned the tables, engaging with this young man in an equal battle of wits for the first time. "You don't seem as affected by 'this' as I had thought you would." The name remained respectfully unsaid.

The boy visibly gulped.

"Neither do you."

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚪●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just wanted to let you all know that I make lots of grammar and spelling mistakes, many of which make it through my editing phase and often into the posting of my chapters. It's so easy to become blind to errors when my brain knows what it's supposed to say, you know. So, I am always correcting things and changing up some of the wording, and sometimes even expanding sentences and paragraphs. Be rest assured though, that it doesn't take away anything in the story — it just enhances it. The changes I make are nothing too much, and wouldn't be a detriment to understanding the plot points and storylines. These are just the small little things that I, myself, can't help but nitpick over. And I think that I nitpick over them too much >_< but I'm having fun so eehhh.
> 
> QUOTE REFERENCES:
> 
> "Fight not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." —Friedrich Nietzsche.
> 
> "There once was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile. He found a crooked sixpence upon a crooked stile. He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse, and they all lived together in a little crooked house." —There Was a Crooked Man (English Nursery Rhyme and Poem)
> 
> "There once was a Crooked Man, who had a crooked smile, and if you lived his life, he'll send you through a trial. He lives for your torment, makes it full of strife, and he won't be content... until you take your life." —The Crooked Man (Video game by developer Uri Games.)
> 
> Anyways, Thank you all kindly for reading my story!  
> \- Hope to cya next time (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	6. A Shadow Always Follows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Impossible to rid oneself of their own shadow."

****** 6 ******

The boy honestly took me by surprise, a wonderful surprise. I could tell, just by looking at him, that his fangs were growing longer, and his claws honing sharper. One would be a fool to underestimate the boy — no, the young man. 

I felt the beast smile inside. 

I taught him well to fend for himself. Didn't I?

Unlike my own, let's say experience, I won't forcibly manipulate him — no, I would never do that. Just the thought of it felt too sinful. 

I pushed the dark and encroaching thoughts to the back of my brain. My eyes slightly burned with a sting. The past should just fade away like the withering pictures in an old album.

These riveting thin vessels between the tips of my every digit, warm as they pumped life fluid. I wonder if he wonders how they would feel between his small claws. 

I hope I will get to see it soon. 

The young man was now in more control than he ever was. He was freed, able now to do as he pleased. But, I should also warn him that it will become easier to get drunk on that feeling, that feeling of knowing what's in the palm of your hands. I felt it personally, with my bare ones. I know that intimate and firsthand sensation better than anyone else. But it's a weird feeling, like the tingles of snowflakes in June, like a contradiction, a walking one. 

I'm torn. I don't want 'you' to see what I do. But I also can't help but visualize it sometimes. There's so much comfort in the darkness. But it is dark in my heart, and oftentimes lonesome.

I felt a shadow prickle behind me even as I left without another word. I continued to step, and step, getting further away from the young man. I could already feel that it was beginning its formation inside of him. I wondered if, Aidan, touched upon something as similar as I did. 

_ What sort of chrysalis is his? _

I both hoped and dreaded it. But he must have, he must have. His lithe voice had most certainly rumbled back there. He was steadily growing a taste for it — a taste of the darkness.

The young man didn't follow me as he usually did, and even with my back turned to him, a thing no other predator would have ever unwisely done, I didn't hear a single step from him. His feet stayed planted where they first caught me. 

I felt a riveting rush of pine needles under the suit of skin I wore to show to the outside. This must be how  _ he _ felt. Just this thought of the young man truly baring his own set of growing fangs made the corners of mine feel stranger. But as the wolves of the wild do, they are keenly aware of the presence of a dangerous alpha. So only his emerald gray eyes seared at my back, instead of his claws.

I glanced at the windows, it was total darkness out there, complete silence. I was nowhere near anyone else; just me and the tamed waves of the night. A mild sense of unreasonable anger began skimming the surface of my mind again. I didn't notice until my nails began digging into crimson, and my fist tightly clenched. 

There's no point to this, as nature is indiscriminate, unmerciful, and whimsical. Tonight, unlike its previous viciousness, it decided to be calm with its sways, and ups and downs. The boat was a sheep in comparison to the open blue teeth hidden below our feet, and the ocean was the quiet shadows beneath the frame of steel. Such a fickle God, truly. 

Finally trudged me back, I took a step through the hall and entered the mess with a bottle of Aspirin in hand. Booming voices screamed at one another at the top of their lungs. 

I noted the slightly elevated blood pressures that I was sure were due to the intensity of their game of poker. There were shirts, trousers, and various watches thrown to the floor with every loss incurred. They hollered at me, the prospect of another person to add to the pool of cash to bet on, seemed tantalizing to them. But I ignored them with a simple uninterested wave. I had something better to do. But at least, it wasn't as dreary in here as it was before. 

I released a sigh that I didn't know I held.

A radio buzzed ever so faintly in the background. The group with cards was in deep concentration, bringing down the total volume of the entire room, which seemed like a blessing, however...

"Did you hear? There have been several more bodies uncovered."

"I heard, I heard. They say they've been buried like that for weeks now."

"Each one was missing a heart and their eye sockets hollowed out."

"Hey!" The two men jumped at the joining of a third man. "You shouldn't be talking about that kind of news right now." 

"Sorry, sorry. Just thought to change the subject from.... 'this' somehow...."

I silently thanked the only man there who seemed to have some semblance of common sense. I spat into a nearby bucket. The bitter distaste of so many things crumbling before me was almost too overwhelming. 

My mind was already in tatters from the blanks in my memory that I've begun to notice. But I will find these answers to my questions eventually, just not right now. Not right now. Right now, this time is all for my friend. The blonde deserved that much at the least. As I thought about him, I felt as if I could picture him smiling next to me right now, as he usually always did.... odd,  _ how did he smile again? _

Slowly losing myself to my thoughts, my heart began to seize. It was heavy, and all so very lonesome by myself in this dark. I still walked up towards a silver bundle of darkened sunshine, ignoring the chatter about the upcoming advent of a new serial killer as ruthless as the Ripper. 

To the young man and many others in the room, I should look like the perfect practice of calmed aloofness. These were masks that I've strategically built up over the years of hiding. It is easier to live quietly when you become attuned to the normality of other humans and copy them. But the one who was truly the best at this skill was still out there somewhere. His masks were all but impenetrable. I had almost broken my mask as I hysterically laughed to myself. 

_ As if there was some other no-name killer that could match up to his caliber... _

"Welcome back, Will." The familiar glow of that sobering young drunk ball of silver sunshine seemed to flinch, ever so slightly so. 

He tracked his still glistening hazel eyes onto my frame. 

It would seem that the traces had not been hidden quickly enough. I could still see the droplet stains lined along with the reddening of his eyes and nose; he had been tearing to himself, probably attempting to do so until he fell asleep, did I not arrive in time. 

"What's so funny?" He wondered with a forced chuckle as he gulped back a harsh sniff. He traveled a hand to his throbbing temple and eyes to furiously rub at them. All the while, still giving me that same cheeky grin. It didn't have to be me, anyone could have easily noticed that something was wrong.

I chose not to comment nor say anything, however. Instead, I easily handed the bottle of painkillers to him, purposefully not bringing attention to his obvious tear stains. And he nodded in relieved thanks. Perhaps, in thanks for both. But I felt that there was no need, nor any further reason, to dwell on it. For I will act soon, and I will never let go of this fiery sadness called desire. 

I could still feel the unwitting grin that laced over my lips prior. I let it slip into a frown as I inhaled a long and tired breath. "Nothing." I plopped down next to the youngster on the seat of the table, taking in the serene scene of ocean waves peering through the large doors, albeit chaotic with shouting men, but lively and triumphant. 

"Nothing to worry yourself over."

I paused. "Get some sleep...."

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


"He was a great fisherman. A great man. A great friend." The voice of the Captain carried throughout the deck; it held within such profound thought and feeling as if it were the flakes of ice crystals spinning down on us. I felt my spine shiver in the shared atmosphere of the cold. And under his charismatic pronouncement, his words became the truth. 

"He was our fellow man. A brother. We will always remember him. And he will be dearly mourned and missed." The Captain's aged eyes visibly drooped with every word he spilled with increasing grief. He has known Nolan far longer than I had since the younger first became a fisherman at the age of twenty-four, I believe. That's if I recalled the words correctly during one of our banters, or excuse me, him one-sidedly bothering me. 

A faint and solemn smile crept over my lips and brows before I could even stop them.

I tore my eyes away for a second, needing a slight breather. The beat drumming through the hollows of my chest slowly bleeding from the inside to my ears. It was a heavy and guilt-ridden drone.

When I turned to look back again, curiously, I saw that there was another shadow — a shadow of death. It hollowed the light within the Captain's eyes. 

Once I made the connection into his eyes, I became aware that he was deathly blaming himself for the accident. His inner turmoil was so vivid to only my pair of unique eyes. He's become too harsh on himself, I felt as I slipped in deeper. 

_ Swish-Swish-Swish. _

His thoughts became my own: the 'if only I had seen the wave earlier,' and there were many of them — many 'ifs' and 'then' and 'pleads' whirled around through his dizzying mind. 

I looked down, seeing his hands fumbling frantically with the buzzing radio as if we were back in the present. No matter what  _ we _ did, the radio continued to distortedly buzz. There was an exposed wire smoking and frizzed with seemingly torn copper rods on the back. 

_ I see. _

I slipped back out of his mindset. The past is in the past now. There's no point in wasting time in self-pity and wallowing when you instead can use that time for planning and acting.

My eyes steeled first before my heart followed, but I was confident enough that no one could see through the masks on my skin, not even Aidan, who was closest to the nature hidden deep down in my form of an abyss. He had one of his own, I was sure of, just in a different form.

There were rows of people, every person was lined up on one of two sides. The middle was spaced and laid empty in respect. And though it was an empty rectangular box that sat there, it was something at least. It would be nothing short of a miracle if an actual body was eventually recovered. And even if it were, the sharks and scavengers of the deep would have already disrespected the corpse past the point of recognition. 

_ Let him rest in peace and keep suffering no fools. _

"Such a shame." Came a whisper.

"He was still so young. What a waste."

"Just be glad it wasn't yourself."

_ Ingrates! _

Blood, once again, began to mar the whites of my eyes.... but, before I could even snap at them and disrupt the peace my friend righteously deserved, a flash of silver right behind them stole the spotlight. The young man's eyes like the sunburned with a dangerous flame, unlike the pale squeamish yellow during the previous night of drinking. The stares the abhorrent group received rightfully put them in their place.

Then after a few moments of still silence, and a few jokers finally clammed up, they locked the empty box with several straps. 

Then slowly, they lowered the large box over the edge of the railings. 

It plunged into the ocean with a strange gentleness, the quiet sinking of a pebble in a vast sea. Atlas, Poseidon, or whatever cruel God, may have been mourning alongside us. 

This was their own culture, a rendition of a Viking's honor, a traditional send-off for one who lived by the laws of the sea and respected the life of the sea.

After several more long and silent minutes of standing vigil, the gathering slowly dispersed, one by one. The blonde man had always had this strange popularity, and it still befuddled me as to why he liked my odd company. 

The crowd continued to grow smaller and smaller until only I and a handful of bodies remained. Aidan had been strangely distant lately, but he still stayed next to me, though maybe a safer distance away now. But it was nice. I don't think I could have stifled my inner self as great as I could, were he not keeping a watch on me. 

I could feel the prickle of his green eyes gazing in from the corner of my eye. In mine were blankness and the waves of sorrow, while in his vibrant green eyes was a sense of loss, like an owlet that has fallen from its nest. But, there was also this odd sense of anticipation with those green swirls. The respected man was like an older brother to the lad, and they grew close quickly. It would be a severe understatement to simply say that the younger man was sad.

A familiar mop of tree bark-like hair caught my attention. A small group gathered at the feet of where he stood as if he were a God walking the Earth. He donned an appealing smile, a charming persona. 

He was silent, quiet, with a head bowed deeply in a sign many would perceive as profound respect. But like the last time, his eyes never changed. 

_ Shitty actor. _ I hissed to myself.

I'd already had an inkling then. My instincts blared then. I SHOULD HAVE LISTENED.  _ If only....only if I... _ I jolted in place, instantly stopping that dangerous line of thinking right then and there. Aidan even looked at me funny, but my practiced control has not been perfected over the years and wasted. Even Molly and Walter couldn't see the bare bones of it. So, it was no wonder the young man couldn't gauge the swirling emotions inside of me before.  _ Was there anyone that really could.... perhaps one? _

My body stilled and relaxed, like a jungle cat preparing itself before the final strike. I had to shut my dangerous thoughts off when I noticed Harrison quietly coming over, and that made the young man beside me instantly perk up, twitchy ears of a rabbit. The curiosity over me couldn't beat the familial connection to an attachment he has always longed for.

"Get some good night's rest, you two." He slowly brought a hand over to Aidan's shoulder, eyes lingering over the youngster and a comforting gesture you often see a father do for his son. But my childhood never had that, only the lingering stench of bitter liquor, and many thrown wrenches. At times like these, I do feel the ugly green-eyed beast slither through the webs inside my head.

"Rest up tonight and tomorrow. That is what I will have everyone do." He stated kindly. I could understand that order; the mood just wasn't right for this kind of work, especially after such a loss of life. But even if they hadn't felt enough sympathy, respecting a friend was far more important to me than caring for my state of mind or wellbeing. And I am grateful for the heavy consideration. 

The kind words and ease of strenuous work this type of job demands were appreciated. Even the antagonism seemed tamed, just little petty words at times. But regardless, there is always this shadow in the back of my skull, this shadow that will now forever follow me.

Aidan didn't seem ready to leave yet, however, he continued to revel in the man's gentle and concerned touch, touched-starved as if he were a man fasting through the deserts of the Sahara. The boy's defenses usually became unguarded around him. The trickles became a waterfall. I allowed the flow from his adoring green eyes to flash the sights one wouldn't go out of their way revealing to someone unfamiliar. 

And here I was, there in his shoes. I always seamlessly enter through others' windows, but I was the one caught off-guard here. And I usually never am. 

I saw a lonely home, a fatherless tower that became more and more like an inescapable prison. It was as if something had curled its fingers and clenched over the thick lines of my heart. 

I felt for this young man, this revelation that his home was much more similar to mine than I had initially thought. As I felt compelled to be pulled in further, to learn more, a striking spear of emotions suddenly lashed back out at me. The animosity was so profound. 

The soulless dark orbs of a bitter abyss. 

I stood frozen. 

I couldn't back away even though I so dearly wanted to run and get out. My legs were paralyzed, just as my mind was with fear, forced to watch this disturbing scene play out. 

In the eyes of a child, this man was the purest of darkness, with flesh like a decaying corpse buried for over a decade. And those eyes, if you could even call them eyes, were nothing but a monster's carnal and raw reds like the blood of the Nile in the guise of flaking human skin. 

And here it was, approaching me with outstretched arms in a cruel joke of an embrace. What gave it away was the cruel glint in its eyes, and the hateful laughter echoing from the flaps of loose-skinned lips, with teeth as jagged as the serrated side of a saw. There was nothing but pain and terror associated with this thing. 

A scream pierced the echo of this soulless creature, huffs melded with the beast from a smaller form beneath its misshapen body. 

The thing's hips were moving, crackles like joints pulled out of place then repeatedly popped back in — grotesque snaps. But I was hushed into silence so many times before, by the softer one's voice. 

It was sweet at first, but inch by inch, and little by little, it soon devolved into the unrecognizable. It grew wrathful. It grew resentful. It grew spiteful. I closed my eyes because  _ it _ hated seeing them. And as I grew older, I stopped speaking because  _ it _ hated hearing it. As I grew, even more, I started coming back less because _ it _ hated even looking at me. 

Sometimes, I could wistfully remember the feel of her soft, thin, and feminine fingers pat through each follicle on my head in one moment, and then in the next, become so distorted that she was synonymous with a demon prowling the night. 

The cruelty returned in the form of the pictures of an old scrapbook collected by demons, every subsequent image flooding my mind from his. I saw pale limbs raised above me in rageful arcs, inducing splotches of purples and blacks onto already painful parts of my body. 

Numbed with fear, I finally found the strength to escape, to run away. I wasn't thinking, wasn't planning. I didn't care where I was going, nor where I would end up. The pure terror coursing through my veins drove my every step. Anywhere but here would be better, far better. But....but I would miss her...

Finally, it was like I had reached the light at the end of a dark and winding tunnel; I was spat out of the memory, and out of the boy's fragile mind. And I found myself back on the boat, with droplets of fear-produced sweat gliding down the sides of my face. My breathing was labored as if I were in a panic. The relentless imagery of the young man's past was gut-wrenching. But, he and Harrison seemed to assume that it was because of the emotions I held for Nolan welling up inside of me that I looked so shaken up. 

I let them continue thinking that way. 

The young man thoughtfully hooked my arm over his smaller shoulders, keeping me from falling over completely. Oddly, his shoulders weren't as thin as I thought. I felt the rigid shape of defined muscles. He hasn't been this close to me in a while.

Harrison's eyes were genuinely kind, though more perceptive than most, he didn't even mind my darker tendencies that sometimes shine through, which did arise once in the form of an uppercut to Curtis' jaw. Rather, he seemed to have accepted that it was just going to be a part of me, and I appreciated that. I don't need his pity. And I don't want to drag anyone else down my darkness with me.

"Aidan, you should take Will to his room." The older gent offered a sympathetic smile, then turned and started away. He had a duty to his crew to fulfill. 

A silver young man had briskly walked towards us. "Is he alright?"

"I'm fine, just a bit anemic," I replied, but Aidan didn't seem to believe me. The shadow of doubt lingered in his eyes. He could gauge that this wasn't how I would normally react. The little  _ sharp bastard. _ I thought albeit with some affectionate proudness.

"I'm taking Will to his room." I already knew that he wasn't going to take no for an answer. So pathetic, I am. 

My vengeance was so near, and yet my body refused to cooperate. I must calm myself down. A hunter who rushes a trap will only end up with a failure. The prey will escape and it will be even more difficult to trap the next time.

"I'll help too." Elias swiftly held up my other arm, hooking that over his taller shoulders. His long silver hair tickled the side of my neck.

"Thank you," I said, eyes growing wearily and sleepier by each passing second. That dive took much more of a toll on my body than.. than I was.. was...  _ So sleepy...  _ Expect... ting...

The last thing I could recall before the darkness embraced me were two curious pale gray orbs prowling close by, watching and stalking me.

  
  


~•●🔴●•~

  
  


It smelled of grass on a cool spring morning. Aromatic flavors of varying degrees and combinations melding together perfectly to create the best of them all. 

The ingredients have been treated with such care right from the start, unsuspecting and unknowingly ignorant of what's beyond the border of the fence. They were as lambs were to a slaughterhouse. They were as bees were to an apiary. But he was different — he alone was different. 

He was the only one that had a unique scent. His scent was one of a kind, undulled, and limitless in potential. The man could see the scent spilling like blood from the shadows of his mind. It was just muddled for a very long time, by outside forces that never did deserve him. To force him to lock away such a beautiful feast behind a door he had never intended to open up was a written sin, not unlike a tragedy to the man. 

And so, he set off to set it free, little by little; he unlocked each lock with a special key; he unveiled its potential; he enabled him to see his potential. It was likened to grand ballroom dancing. The two matched each other step for step, wit against wit, claws to fangs, and teeth to talons. 

He so strongly felt that they should be off into their world — above it all — for no one but they, alone, could understand the other, as well as they did. For no one can be fully aware of another human being unless they loved them. By that love, we see potential in our beloved. Through that love we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloved's potential becomes true. And this was how he was going to express it.

"You let him do it." A woman's eyes were crossed as she accused, staring at a man with a lion's mane of golden hair. 

He didn't look like a man who had been forced to flee on a boat to escape to a new continent. He was too well kept, groomed, and composed. Had a buttoned-up casual onyx like midnight dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, exposing the lean muscles of his forearms. Below the waist, he wore silver slacks made out of breathable materials. Despite being on a boat for approximately a little over a week now, he still has the option of enjoying the luxuries of his past-time that many would become severely green-eyed to. At the very least, the little ignorant lambs were unaware of what he was up to.

The man didn't even think to bother looking up at the female that addressed him, he already knew who it was. His mind thought quick, and so the corners of his lips curled into a small and charming smile as he continued chopping the onions and garlic. Had he not, the capacity to cry like a normal person, he would not have remained unaffected by the tear-causing chemicals beneath the skin. 

The blood circle around his eyes gleamed at her in amusement. "I let good Will do many things. Are you not entertained?"

"This isn't about me." She almost spat. But she, herself knew, that even if this man pushed so many of her buttons, forced her to swim through a lake of fire, forced her to take care of a filthy man in a dungeon of his own making, at the end of it all, she couldn't help but forgive him. It is what  _ she _ would have done, so it was the least she could do.  _ She _ was like her law, her Bible, a biblical truth, her first family. 

She could never act out against her wishes, but it doesn't mean she wouldn't voice out her displeasure with many of the things he's done and will do in the future. 

She frowned again at the thought of what's soon to come.

"It would seem that you have a problem with dear Will." He looked up this time. An odd sensation lingering on the tetters of his eyes, still as unfathomable and never-ending in their darkness. "Am I wrong?" The knife in his hand eerily stilled, as if the wind had stopped blowing their sails.

"He's not the issue I am intending on." The woman kept on, already keenly aware of the dangerous little details.

The man quickly smiled again, a lulling sense that could easily fool a flock of sheep. "If you say it's not," the man says as he finished up and untied the apron wrapped around his waist. "Then it's not." He looks to the prepared dishes as if they were works of fine art, perfect and ready for  _ him.  _ He grinned, an expression that would have easily unnerved anyone, but she was too used to it by now. She has gazed into the abyss for a very long time.

The woman scoffed, knowing better than to take this man's words at face value. A scowl burrowed deep into her brows. 

The double meanings in every single word and every single sentence and phrase of his were, as always, difficult to maneuver through. Even for her, and she had spent a great deal of time with the man — ever since he was still just a little lad. So in a way, those two were perfect for each other. She ought to just ship them off somewhere together and out of her hair and thoughts.

"Just know this, Hannibal," the name on her tongue sounded foreign, and all the venom in her tone prior seemed to have almost entirely gone. "It hurts to be rejected, but what hurts more is when you get rejected so many times, yet you're still hoping to be accepted." She did not give the man sympathy, this was simply an observation.

The man looked thoughtful for a mere second, but it was just merely. He chose instead to simply hum, slinking away with the tray full of luxurious looking food. You would think that it was being served to the Prince of a foreign country.

She sighed, deciding to focus back on the steering wheel. It's not her place to tell the man what to do and what not to do. She was here to assist him. And assist him she shall. But it wasn't that she disliked the droopy blue-eyed man downstairs, who was currently forced into cohabitation. In actuality, she does find him quite charming to a degree; in a cute way even. She would never voice this part out, however. For that would most surely displease the red-eyed man. And that is most likely the most dangerous thing in the world to commit, even if it was her.

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚪●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I remember one of my English professor's critiques; he once said that my metaphors were so vivid and that my protagonist was so likable that he thoroughly enjoyed reading a short story of mine I did for an assignment. I didn't even think it was that good lol. But of course, this story is so much more different from a short one. For one, there are far more characters that need development. Second, it's a bit difficult to switch my mindset from one character to the next so that their words and interactions seem more natural. Third, what even is my theme for each of my original characters and already established characters in the Hannibal series??? Whatever everything and everyone has a purpose in my messy plotting mind 😣😆 But I'm still having fun so eeehh.
> 
> QUOTE REFERENCES:  
> "All I’ve ever wanted, since I was a child, was to do something wonderful. Never let go of that fiery sadness called desire." —Patti Smith
> 
> "Rest in peace and keep suffering no fools." —RIP Walter Williams (1936-2020)
> 
> "Pathetic, I am. Mmmhmm." —Yoda 😂
> 
> "I Write Sins Not Tragedies." —Panic At The Disco (Song title inspired a line in the chapter)
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> \- Cya next time (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	7. All The Pieces Lie Where They Fell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who will be there to pick up mine?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be my oddest one yet.
> 
> A/N: Will be re-checking the grammar and edits again. Tired now Zzzz.  
> EDIT: Finished checking it :D but still tired lol Zzzz.
> 
> (CHAPTER WARNING - References to Religious elements everywhere and could be interpreted as blasphemous)

****** 7 ******

It was a tingly strange, like a venomous snake slithering its elongated needles down my spine, like spiders crawling up my skin and down my throat. A scald from the burning fire inside.

I couldn't settle because something just felt off, it was as if at any moment a beast was going to suddenly lunge at me and sink its dark teeth into my flesh. It was a tension so strong that it felt as if all of my bones would break. Like the pressed springs of a creaky mattress locked and loaded; the subtle click of an aimed gun; a burning heat that scorched the surface of Venus and steadily grew closer as it burned the planet to cinders. If this feeling were a physical manifestation, I would see fiery red ants crawling over a butterfly as they devoured it alive, hundreds and thousands of snapping mandibles slowly devouring the butterfly as if enjoying its dying cries, slowly tearing its wings with a hunger for the art of crimson — broken little thing.

It howled from the outside. Even God or the Gods seemed angry, rumbling dark clouds high above with flashes of a bolt of electric blue light that lit up the whole room through thin little crevices in what I assumed were glass windows. Dark tints that you could barely see out of. And the air was as heavy as those shadows that lurked. The scent of earth and falling sea precipitate overwhelming my nostrils. 

A glimmer from above. Looked as if but a simple touch would easily snap the metaphorical string that dangled above the downpour, glimmering from the clouds. A thin slimmer of hope, I thought.

My head spun as I looked around, eyes still blurry with a fuzziness. I didn't know what was going on, or which was up or down. Everything was simply spinning. Blurred blobs from meshed colors of the rainbow filled what little I could see. But I did feel something, like a phantom tang of sour sweat droplets gliding down my face.

_ Or were they from my eyes?  _

It was a burning sensation that swept my body like the inside of a cremation incinerator. Like I was in the eye of the tiger. I couldn't help the feeling of shivers from strikes of chills that ran through my skin and to my heart, stabbing into the very marrow of my bones, cracking it, slicing it, pulling it apart like a savage king of the jungle.

_ CRACKLE! _

The rush of thunder came after a bolt of electric blue, lighting up the shadows.

_ Rumble-Rumble-Rumble. _

Everything was breaking apart. 

_ I am breaking...  _ It whispered.

It burnt away.

_ My ashes remain...  _ It whispered again.

It was cold inside. 

_ The darkness is inside...  _ It whispered once again...

It was empty. 

_ I am hollow...  _

Silence...

I felt the darkest tinge of a smile in the shadows that peered back at me. And with a hallowing buzz, the glassy skies shattered. Reflecting objects twinkling down in sharpened rain. My already ragged clothing was further torn up by the falling shards that left cuts on my arms, my face, my entire body. Dangerous glitter that was so beautiful. 

The rain of glass stopped.

I approached where they should have fallen, delicately picking up the shards with bloodied fingers. I didn't even register the pain. But.... but I couldn't pick them all up... Because— because there were barely any pieces left.

_ Thud! THUD! THUD! _

A hammer drummed on my skull.

I realized that I held only a fraction of my pieces, and they were already so fragile that they were easily shattered to smithereens. Thudded and thudded upon until the fragments burst! And something else slithered out.

_ SCcccreeecCH! _

The shrill noise grated against the hammers and my eardrums, a banshee screaming for its lost soul. Someone was streaking a metal razor across the white dust of a chalkboard, creating the desperate cries of someone's faded voice. I couldn't see their face... It was all a blur— but I know its desperation. I know the sadness. I know the loneliness...

I held my palms forward; they continued to bleed, losing more of myself. Fragile palms to my ears to block out the sounds, but to no avail. My head felt hot, whirling sensations that seemed to be a regular inside of my brain. If this feeling were a solid substance, it would be a cold, calculated blade that had once seared through the dermis of my stomach....  _ wait.... had that happened.? _ My eyes grew clear, but somehow, I felt even dizzier, more uncertain, and more confused. On cloud nine on a drug-like high.

I felt the ghostly touch of a crooked curl of steel running across the lower front of my waist.  _ Was that real too? _ I looked down, but there was nothing there. 

What was really here and not really here?

I can't tell anymore! _What isn't real?!_ _Was it real?!_

Unmarred skin mockingly greeted me back as I saw that nothing was tearing into me. But I was sure of it, the feeling of that blade was too familiar to be just my imagination!  _ I'm not crazy! I'm not insane! _

Thin eight-legged widow's bodies crawled all over me.

_ Get off of me!  _ I raked my nails all over my skin, tearing away at it, tearing the shadow spiders off. 

_ Get off of me! _ I split even the hairs from my scalp, tearing maniacally. Dark little bodies covering all over my skin and my eyelids.

Crawling...

Crawling...

Crrrrrreepy crawling.

_ Hahahaha! What's wrong with me!? _

_ "I don't know...."  _ The voice whispered again from the shadows.

Those pieces that belonged to me must have been scattered, thrown into the wind, tossed into the sea, taken far away from me. So far that I can't even stitch together any of my thoughts coherently. I can't pick up my pieces. They were mixed with some that weren't mine, and distorted by the invader and forever changed... or maybe....maybe they were just reverted to the way they originally were.

The piece of glass in my hand reflected me. A smiling reflection grinned back.

_ FLASH! _

The brightness like that of a camera shutter at a crime scene.

_ "What kind of crazy is he!?"  _ A man with broad shoulders demanded of me. He wants me to use my abilities more.

_ I don't know!!! _

_ "Oh, I think you do." _ That unknown voice whispered again, seductively so, and right into my ear. Like a ghostly hand on my shoulder. A serpent's forked tongue tasting the round of my earlobe.  _ "Intimately so." _ The horrible laughter distorted its faceless grin as the broad-shouldered man I saw disappeared like the setting sun. And then, I felt weightless for a split second. Falling backward, I was plunged into the coldhearted darkness. My footing lost and like a bird with clipped wings spiraling downward into a bottomless pit.

I lunged my arms forward, half in desperation and the other half in wrath. I was determined to strangle that fragile neck.

_ Shut up!  _ I bared my teeth at the voice so savagely. But instead, I gripped onto something soft, velvety, silky, and most likely expensive. It wasn't a neck, to my utter disappointment.

Finding myself distracted, I shook my confusing thoughts away and closed my eyes. 

_ Thump-Thud-Thump— _ Droned the inside of my heart. 

I soon opened my eyes once again; the brightness stung, as the light slowly returned. I turned confusedly to look at my surroundings. No sign of the dark and gritty shadows of a bottomless abyss, just a normal room with a small but elegant chandelier that lit up space. It appears to be a luxurious bedroom with black, silver, and blue velvet walls, tables and chairs, and marble with delicate designs. The fabric beneath my fingers on the curtains along with the windows.

I was still so utterly confused. How I got here was beyond me. Any memory of this place eludes my fuzzy mind.

_ I think... _

No.

_ I know. _

I know I've been here before though. I should recognize this. 

Like a spring, I shot forward, but got up and moved a little too fast, as a dizzy spell hated through my aching temples. I placed a hand to the wall of the room to steady myself, and I noted that steel plates were welded over the glass as if to keep something out — or in. 

I turned to take a look at the room, spotting a fairly wide room. It was rather eerie, the spaciousness and centerpiece as the generous tray filled with luxurious-looking food. A showcase presented on a stainless silver atop of a dark ebony table. A form of art one could say. 

Though the sight looked appetizing, for some reason, it didn't feel very inviting. Rather, the presence of that mountain of pleasant-smelling food gave me no peace of mind, as my body felt the need to seize up in tension, expecting a snake to suddenly lunge at me. 

I instinctively shivered, feeling frozen as if a bucket of iced water was dunked over me. It felt as if I were being watched, tested even. Shifting the corners of my eyes to try to identify the person but not alert them, wherever they may be. But nothing, I could see no one.

Suddenly, a familiar presence swept behind my ears and snapped around, fists clenched. However, my eyes blew wide in surprise at a pair of gray-sapphire gems frigidly staring at me from under the fine sheets of the bed with feathered pillows and waves of blue and white checked cotton fabric. It was probably as warm as sheep's wool and as fine as the healthy hairs from a horse's tail.

The strange gaze felt familiar, somehow. Those hauntingly icy blue orbs have been quietly staring at me for a while now like it also sought answers from me, but a different kind. 

The thought of there being someone here, though, somewhat lessened my anxiousness, for it didn't seem threatening, somehow... I thought that perhaps this person could answer the many questions racing through my head, like "where are we?", "whose boat is this?", or "why am I here?" But as I opened my mouth to struggle those words out, my lips rebelled, frozen together like two flakes of ice. I couldn't muster the words through the grains of sandpaper that felt like my throat and the retch of pungent acid from the bowels of my stomach, lingering on the sides of tender muscles. I could feel the bruising with my fingers.

I swallowed nervously, tasting the coppery tang of iron and what little ball of digested material remained in my stomach. The tray of unsettling food looked more appetizing right about now, but I stayed my hand, still suspicious of it. I kept repeatedly glancing to and from the tray of food and the blue-eyed figure. Little lines of cold sweat continued to drop down the sides of my face in rejection of this being. It was like my brain and body wanted me to turn away from it like they wanted to hide it from my eyes.

But I wanted to know.

_ "Then ask me." _ A voice that sounded just above a whisper, but it felt as if it didn't even make an actual sound.

I froze up.  _ Did it just talk? _

I slowly turned to approach this person's —  _ was it even a person? _ — odd blue blankness. But I then realized that I could not see a face... It was blank, completely and utterly blank like a wall of cut stone.

I felt the trembles shoot through my body like fire, alarms, and blaring sirens.

I felt terror. 

_ Who is this man— thing?! _

I jumped back, extremely wary.

"Who are you?!" I raised my voice for the first time, barely able to scratch the vowels from my throat as if rocks blocked my windpipe.

"Where am I?!" My body trembled more violently, like it wanted to get far away from this person — thing.

"Why am I here?!" An octave higher with blood sputtering with my spit.

Or for that matter— 

"Who am I?!?" The wisps of a name eluded the echoing calls in my mind even as I raked my nails through my hair. Like that was going to help.

Even with my head spinning, I continued to glare at the blue-eyed figure. 

The scent of copper begins to overwhelm me. My sense of self gradually distorted as I fell back into a wooden chair that seemed to have been magically propped there for me. The walls felt as if they were reaching for me. Dark twisted words and bleeding colors swimming together, until they were unrecognizable. My head droned as if someone bashed a rock onto my face repeatedly and I was disfigured and unidentifiable.

I was like the pieces of a broken teacup...  _ Wasn't it broken once before? _

Above me is shattered a glassy sky that covered me. Twinkling down in a cruel rendition of snowfall, those broken fragile pieces of me fell and were swept away by the waves of a stormy sea. I can remember the feeling of the violent wind whisking past me— us. The jaw-like opening of the dark waters below that swallowed us— me— us... It swallowed us up.

The whirlpooling nausea churning in the pit of my acid-filled stomach only grew worse, as the strange and enticing scents of the luxurious foods presented on that silver platter merged with the dizzying memories. I was dry but it felt as if water was covering my ears.

I gave a small and pain-filled glance at the blue gem-eyed figure who remained as stiff as a mannequin, and it did look like one too.

It didn't blink...

It didn't move...

It didn't say a word...

It just looked almost frozen in time... It was frozen in time... 

_ Flash!  _

It was winded up and let go...

_ FLASH! _

A broken teacup fell to the floor with a smile as it put itself back together. 

I could just faintly see the amber outline of something else prowling in the shadows, watching in delight.

_ FLASH!! _

Burning wheels through a parking lot as a man screamed in agony. And it reveled in the feeling of power. 

The ambers turned into scarlet like blood.

_ FLASH!!! _

_ It was beautiful. _

A large shadow suddenly loomed over me in my vision, but... Though it was undoubtedly evil — dark — in nature, it wasn't a threat to me... But I could barely hear the next set of words from the shadowed figure with bright scarlet orbs. The sounds drowned by the rush of roaring water, swirling my brain in a hurling fall.

My mind rolled back into reality with a gasp of wind taken out of me, hard huffs, and lungs breathing in rapidly. The blue-eyed figure was still in the room, staring at me with a crooked tilt of its neck, gazing back at me as I gazed at it.

Still keeping my weary distance away from it, much like I did the tray of enticing food; even though the thing seemed to be inconspicuously sitting atop the bed and never moved in a threatening manner. It just seemed satisfied in observing me from its source of comfort. And though it felt like there were tiny sparks from those ocean blue gems that attempted to connect to me and break this invisible barrier between us, my mind refused to look too deeply into it. Like a defense mechanism, the headaches grow ever more severe whenever I spare too long of a look at it.

An outside force of nature crackled like the waves on a beach, the howling winds of a hurricane, the battered rocks on the edges of a cliff. And after a while, the ocean-eyed figure simply turned back towards the tray of food and burrowed its haunting eyes onto it instead. I suddenly felt as if it was just like me, distrustful of the tray of food, and unsure of itself, and me.

I looked to the tray again, and it was practically screaming 'bait' to the both of us.

Though I knew absolutely nothing about this blue-eyed being, I couldn't help myself but think of those blue gems as familiar; they seemed as deep as the trenches, holding the deadliest of storms within them. It was like I was looking at half of a mirror. And eventually, the curiosity won over me, as I gave into the wondering buzzing in my head. 

Looking directly into its blank face and deep blue eyes, I gazed deeper as it did me. But the longer I looked, the more my head painfully swayed with the ground below me, crumbling beneath the layers of my mind. 

I wanted to know this blue-eyed being, but I still couldn't see any other facial feature on its face. Its piercing blue eyes seemed almost — familiarly predatory. Looking into its blank face was like looking at an incomplete painting on a canvas, but something had built a wall barring me from completing the. Its face was as blank as a white sheet of paper. So, why did I think there was more to this being?

The headaches began to slowly crumble away. I dug at it. And I dug at it. Scraping through the jumbled mess that is my mind. Until suddenly, I felt a spike of fear once more. 

Something else was here. 

I snapped around. The blue-eyed figure seemed on edge as well. But the more pressing matter was  _ who  _ put this tray here?

I shook my head in growing concern, ironically, the blue-eyed thing did too, as if mirroring me again. I thought about the methodical placement of the cuisines. At first sight, words like heavenly and divine come to mind. I would expect to see such finery within the walls of a palace where royalty walked, not— wherever 'here' is. 

The scrumptious scents coming from the tray were devilishly tempting: the pure bliss of a tropical island, like freshly-made dough and butter, the sharpness of roasted spices, and the definite tang of fresh garlic. My nose couldn't help but revel in the tantalizing, precise, savory, and mouthwatering smells, which caused a low grumble in the pit of my stomach. But, my instincts were warning me of something, alarm bells frantically ringing at me to run away. 

There was no denying the strong temptation like an aphrodisiac whispering into my ear, like the serpent in Eden's garden. My head and body were at war with themselves. I sometimes think that it would be better if I just gave in to the desire. Other times, my sense of morals prevented me from taking that inevitable step. I would never be able to climb back out once I fell forward. Though that didn't stop my mouth from watering. My stomach rumbled yet again. The sheer strength of my will and stiff muscles barely prevented me from leaping at the platter of food. Still, I couldn't quite figure out why, but something just didn't feel right, something was just wrong, off, weird, or even evil about it — all of it. The tray of food was practically declaring its presence. 'Come eat me,' it says. And as I looked at it more closely, it seemed to grow a pair of red eyes.

I could see that at the front of the large silver tray was a delicate risotto dish topped with greenery, which looked normal enough. But, scrunching my eyes at every little detail, I started to notice things: wagyu steak with vivid pours of liquid crimson holes from a stab wound, lobster that would occasionally twitch its pinching feelers even though it were already chopped up into various pieces, a fresh lamb shank that was peeled from its skin and looked lively enough that there was still wooly hair on it, the jiggle of gelatin glazed over like the cornea of lightless eyes, and a soup that was a viciously dark red color like the blood that must have been drained a long while ago, becoming a deep black. 

It was as if the bright and vibrant colors of the delicate arrangement of food were mocking me. It was planned with a purpose, every part of the meat, the placement of the plates, the knives — everything.

It was tremor-inducingly off. 

And then, I heard familiar words whispering in my head, but they weren't coming from my lips... 

Why do I feel like I've seen this same arrangement of dishes before? I've never—  _ No wait...  _

_ Never? _

_ No...  _

I think I did see... these before... 

_ I saw them....? _

_ Where did I see them? _

I was supposed to leave.… that.... day— 

_ Day....?  _

_ What day was that....? _

My mind went silent for a while, left to darkness that was encouraging with shadows that looked hungry with the desire to pull me into its teeth. Until...

_ "You know what day." _

It suddenly spoke. A voice that felt as if it were directly right next to my ear. A darker and more sinister tone.

I snapped open my eyes. There was no one there but I and the blue-eyed and blank-faced man.

_ Was it him? _

I thought in frustration. 

_ Was it messing with me? _

I began to stomp towards the being, finally having enough that I am willing to get my answers in any way possible.

It remained still, calmly watching me even as I strode up to it with violent intent. Just as I clenched a fist into the burrow of the blue-eyed figure's gray collar, all of a sudden, the fine walls of the luxurious room seemed to spin, dripping like open wounds. Pale blue and silver walls bleeding into dark reds and fleshy tones. I frantically released the figure's collar, looked all-around at the walls encircling us like tree branches, and the shadows seemed to laugh.

The warm inviting scents began to sprinkle with deeper tones as the room drooped to the pitch-black floor. The rancid stench of flesh and decay devoured the warmth, attracting all sorts of bottom feeders from the dark depths.

I felt a shock from the tips of my fingers to the throbbing organ in my chest, down to the side of my stomach where I had envisioned the knife running through. Blurry colors flashed before my eyes, and a scene unfolded before me as the stench of death continued to grow unbearably stronger. I was familiar with this scent. 

Brief colors of yellow tape and human-sized stainless steel ovens came to mind. A trip of black and red and white colors melted together. A taint that slowly ate away at me, gradually pulling innocence into gray and black. I reeled from the sudden bombardment of nauseating sequences invading my mind in an avalanche. I had to clench my teeth until I could taste the coppery tang of the red liquid to prevent the contents of my acid-filled stomach from lurching out what remained in it. The pain on my lips was a bit relieving, but still, I could feel the sharp mental pains as if a parasite was burrowing holes through my skull, devouring everything that I am and was.

_ Flash! _

Bright yellow rays blinded from the long rectangular windows. I thought that maybe they could bring to light what was missing inside of me, and yet — I could not see through them. 

I could just make out two voices... One feminine and the other a more low and silvery baritone. Before I could find out who those voices belonged to, the winds howled with a ferociousness to them, pushing me away, promising wrath and mercilessness onto my body of weak and soft jelly skin. 

I looked down at my stinging hands, the skin clinging on were littered with abrasions, scraps, and severely discolored bruises that looked like they were caused by the sharp edges of rocks and blunt impacts. The mere sight should be concerning me, but I found that my nerves were already numbed to the pain. It was a familiar pain.

I felt a stormy cloud hazing over me. 

I was just an insect waiting for the eventual sun that I knew would never shine on me.

The colors dulled before me, flashing darker and grayer as the world seemed bleaker.

Then I remembered...

_ "Ever think that somebody could be you?!"  _

Her words screeched like the top of a tea kettle. And the dark clouds slightly parted, only to downpour more.

My head was throbbing. A blurry image of dark brown lines I could barely make out on pale-colored skin was talking to my mind.

_ "I survived."  _

Her voice lowered, a distortion of sounds acting like human words.

_ "But this wasn't supposed to be my life!" _

A fire speared through my skin as the piercing gaze came from those young blue eyes. 

_ She _ blamed me. 

_ She _ blamed me. 

_ He was supposed to help me, not frame me! _

Dark brown lines curling as a distortion of a demon took over her face. I could still feel the stream of red liquid plastered on my hands, between every digit under the nooks and crannies of my nails. On that day... I could see the clear vicious gash on her neck. Red lines mocking me as sobbing sounds tore through my lungs. 

I looked at her in shock, frantic hands trying to plead the blood to stop pouring out. But she grew paler and paler and player. Until finally, she stopped moving.

I slowly looked down and my hands shook as I saw them...

_ They were never clean... _

I rubbed my hands onto the ragged cloth of my pants till they were raw and bleeding. I knew it was never going to help me, but I— but I wistfully thought I could turn back time if I were to pretend this never happened...

She was gone.

But...

_ He _ had helped me  _ see _ because of it...

The clouds in my mind grew darker as the nature of thunder and rain cried in response to two emotional beasts, of which one was inside me. I looked up at the sky, my trembling heartbeat, and twitching hands; they were clean, but not really. They never would be clean again. The confusion that clawed and marred my already scattered mind cleared from the fog. It felt like hours until finally, the throbbing stopped and my eyes refocused. She smiled once more, then she was gone.

_ She was gone... _ I accepted that...

The moisture on my skin felt repulsively sticky as the remainder of my fear-soaked sweat brushed down it. The demon that will always follow me was still here. The mannequin-like blue-eyed figure was still gazing at the suspicious tray of food. 

Those were...  _ My pieces...  _

Those were...  _ My memories...  _

I glanced back at the unknown blue-eyed figure in the middle of the room. It shifted slightly in a gesture that looked like it was now uncomfortable. 

_ How nice. _ I thought. I also felt uncomfortable. 

I saw that the figure never once raised a hand for any of the disturbing dishes placed with such whimsical artistry. But as we kept refusing to be anywhere near the food, the temperature around us seemed to rapidly drop. And the frost of my breath was like a chilling art. 

The foreboding sense of ominous ripples was rising just beneath the shallower edges of the tray of the warmth. It was steaming with heat despite how freezing the room had become. It must be trickery. Something had purposefully been hidden, masked, distracting from what truly laid beneath a murky pool of dark sand, of shattered shells, of pieces of torn flesh, of peeling gray clouds, of gasps of smoke, of pools of black.

I sensed the prickle.

Blood was watching me — orbs of blood belonging to a prowler of the darkest nights.

The bait was simply laid over it. And whatever magic had been cast was disillusioned, revealed by knowing its tricks and having become very familiar with them. Soon the warmth of the food in front of us was no longer appetizing. We both saw the ooze of molten flakes of peeled and the decayed flesh of animals, or rather, a certain two-legged animal. The revolting scent of corpse flowers showered the pungent air. Its true appearance was revealed.

A glint of two red orbs from within the back of the shadows grinned. And the first thing that came to my mind at its appearance was:  _ I'm going to die. _

I broke a run for it, my lizard brain sprinted first, my instincts bolting me out of the room, for this monster was still way out of my league. A being far more deadly, far eviler, and far too cunning. Its traps were perilous and would snap with a force easily able to crush bone into dust. 

The bleeding walls loomed over my head as I ran and ran through every door after door. It was getting darker and darker despite me running closer and closer towards the daylight.

My legs prickled with the build-up of lactic acid, and I ignored the painful sensations for a while. And I ignored the caws of ravens as the sky bleed a dark red color like blood.

It all soon became too sharp of stabbing pain, and I keeled over, tripping over something that looked like a tree root. My chest thudded and thumped, thudded and thumped, like a jackhammer to brittle concrete, like heavy metal boots through the already cracked and broken floorboards of my mind.

I closed my eyes at the swelling pain, at the obvious blood moon above me. The infuriating fire traveled through my bones, my nerves, and up towards my frying brain. 

_ Thump-Thud-Thump. _

A forest of trees loomed over me. I don't know how I got from a yacht to here but... I should recognize this place. But... I couldn't... I just couldn't. 

_ Thud. _

_ Thump. _

_ Bark! _

Why couldn't I?

_ Thud. _

_ Bark!  _

_ Bark! _

I looked up into the shadows past the thick murk of branches.

Multiple pairs of eyes greeted me back.

_ Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! _

The throbbing spiked into a fevered agony of an inferno that it was as if Dante was right beside me, leading me towards the other shore; into eternal darkness; into fire, and into ice. 

_ This is a DREAM! _

_ I need to wake up! _

I slammed my head into the dirt and leaves of the ground.

_ WAKE UP!  _

_ Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! Bark! Bark!! Bark!!! _

_ WAKE UP! _

I tried to force myself awake again, but as if compelled, my whole body froze and I couldn't move any of my limbs. It was as if my body and mind were two different entities, split apart and falling separately. Two different sides of a coin and each side were never able to see the other.

Shadows wrapped around my legs first, then my arms, then my torsal, until finally I was enveloped by it completely.

_ "A sad thing to have your identity taken from you." _

In the sea of darkness, I could hear a man's voice. That same voice.... a familiar silvery baritone that was lodged deep in my mind, in a place hidden by many doors that wanted to block out my gift of sight.

_ Who am I....? _

I looked up from the darkness as it curled back away from me. I saw the blue-eyed figure again; its face was still blurred, unrecognizable, and blank like the man who slenders in the dark forests of the nocturnal. 

The rising thunder of scratched waves curled wrenchingly through my ears. Even if I strained my own eyes to look deeply into his face, all I could see were blurry lines and orbs of light. His face was covered in blotches like splashed ink drops along blue lines, smudged as if something, or someone, tried to erase them. The smeared words that I desperately wanted to read.

"Who am I?" I asked it with more conviction. But all there was, was a soulless canvas as unknown to me as he was to himself. I was like a blind bat taken captive by the wind. I just wanted to get a glimpse at his true face, but I became blinded by the yellow rays. I can peek through my blood-stained tears at blue gems that seemed to hold an unfathomable truth within their waves and swirls against the blinding light. No other could truly grasp what he is, hard as they try. For he would never let anyone study him.

With tightly squinted eyes, I could just faintly see the trace outlines of small sharpened protrusions hidden near the top of his faceless mask. 

A sudden thought came to the surface of my mind. But the more I tried to scramble through the webs in my head, the more I felt as if I were on top of the clouds; my body felt so far removed from the reality of the Earth below me. And I felt this odd absence of an earthly sense as if I were an outsider to my own body. It was like I was both there but not really all there. I felt separated, but my pieces were still here.

Then it all shattered like glass.

I must have fallen so far, so worn down by the tortures to my soul in this plane of existence like a hell. And yet, I stilled long for the spider's thread that will lead me from this dark and to a land I could be promised.

"You're the dark feathered beast," the emptiness came from the blue-eyed man and echoed. "Here to exploit humanity." 

Those words weren't for me...

The faceless man's vocal cords were like the shifting of many gears that are constantly changing to fit each need, to fit a mold, a mask. Like the drops and lows from the sparks of metal grating against metal, a cog to a larger machine, a headless horseman led by the threat of a thin rope wrapped around his neck. 

What he said didn't feel unfamiliar. In fact, I think I know it. I think... Those words came from my chapped lips.

Suddenly, it all became easier to hear even the smallest pen drop to the floor. And everything became still, and oh, so very silent as if death stood among us, scythe in its bony hands. 

And I waited, feet planted in place, or frozen. Waited for the blue-eyed man to move first.

And I continued to wait like stones slowly sinking to the bottom of a riverbed, similar to the man with eyes of the oceans once did _... Did he? No, did... I? _

A deep tint from two orbs the color of blood — black, almost — simply observed in dark glee. I began to feel jittery under its scrutiny. The beast had caught up to me. 

My nerves all bristled at once, screaming at me; they jerked in fierce want of running away from the torrid presence of a lion in the room. He was the menace that waited in the darkness, and he seeks to poison and stain everything into his dark preferred colors. It is difficult to find him, for he can easily slip in by the fluidity of his nature. A neighbor in disguise. A bloodsucker veiled in the cloak of shadows.

I heard his faint breath. The beast had prowled close like a predator. He was talking now or at least making sounds. And when he hummed, it was as thick as brambles, a nice whistle, but tainted by the shifting outline of his unclear body. And his red orbs gleamed up as if toying with a mouse. 

_Who was he trying to speak to...._ _who?_

_ To him?  _

_ To me? _

_ To.... us? _

"Careful, you're dissociating." The baritone of his gravelly voice came out slightly distorted as he observed with grinning eyes.

Those eyes of his with crimson flames seemed to be watching the blue-eyed man with heavy interest. The colors continued to further blur as if melding. He looked more shapeless, more beast than man. He blurred between the lines of the natural orders of this world.

"Tell me, do you consider yourself as having been exploited?" The more beast than man whimsically posed. His seemingly soulless blank of pale tone flesh didn't shift, even once. His face was hidden behind the smoke. The most prominent color other than black and gray were the deep sets of crimson and the darkness of a raven's feathers. But he was different from the blue-eyed man. Similar, but a different kind.

My vision snapped into another angle, and more colors returned to my eyes. From the new perspective, I saw the crimson like blood turned black under the moon. Raining black feathers seem to dance with his words, with every movement exaggerated with purpose, but I felt that I could tell; I only needed to look into his hauntingly dark eyes like blood to know that he held a limited capacity for empathy and expression. 

I saw. He was a hunter, a predator through and through. But, he's not your regular psychopath because he can experience empathy. He's not a sociopath because he has regrets. Black feathers began encompassing my entire vision as I dealt with these circulating thoughts. I was being dragged deeper into his darkness as I truly came to grips with his dark and twisted nature. I saw that he sees his victims as 'if you're a pig of a human being, then you deserve to be somebody's bacon.' 

"If you're partial to beef products," I didn't know whatever came over me. "Then it is rather inconvenient to be compassionate towards a cow." The words had slipped from my lips naturally, as if well versed in the game of wits and loaded words, with lives hanging in the balance between them. It felt familiar, navigating through his deadly words and wit.

My mind started to panic as the room turned as frigid as the arctic. A constant and rattling clack kept throbbing and throbbing, as a large pendulum swung from side to side, swirling almost hypnotizingly so — familiarly so — but I couldn't place what made it seem so familiar. It was as if I were inching closer and closer to the edges of a cliff. I saw the verge of its drop, the edges of uncovering and recovering— something... And I felt as if I were being drowned out, drowning in a white sea, drowning in a blank sea. I was merging with the deep blue ocean.

The bones under my sickly flesh twisted and snapped in and out of places, as my head and body began to feel as if they're contorted from the inside-out. Everything inside of me was trying to find out where they could fit in, like the pieces of a shattered puzzle. 

I had to force myself through the pain, prying my eyes open. Blinking rapidly in recoil from this double-like vision that branched through my skull, I could now see his brand of darkness glinting at the man's blue orbs, so interested, invested, and fascinated. I became aware that humanity had little to no insight into it, and I could see why. His brand of evil was too difficult to navigate through its lightless realm. One can look into his darkness, but end up only seeing the tailed-end of the shadows that lived within those caves.

He is fluid. 

He is shapeless. 

He is smoke.

I believe there has not yet been a term to describe him. You can't rubber-stamp him as the same, like all the rest.  _ How dare they even try. _

His— his kind of crazy was a unique crazy. He'd drag someone through the mud of his darkness until they're as pitched as himself. And they won't ever be the same after.

But I was able to peer through the walls of his mind, it was as if seeing through the tinted glass. Though, I could only as far as he would allow me. I didn't know what exactly I was expecting, but all I saw was a murky and bottomless well. Snakes lived there, and they had slowly wrapped around my feet, constricting themselves around my torsal. I didn't rebel. Instead, I found myself drawn to the unknown of the never-ending abyss inside of him that gazes back at me. 

_ It's beautiful.  _ Was the only thought that came to my melting mind.

Slowly falling back from the misty clouds on high, I regained enough sense to feel my irrational need to run, to be anywhere but here with the man...  _ Or was he more of a beast?  _

Feeling that my brand of existence was in peril if I continued to stay here, I turned to flee. I felt that I would disappear if I let him continue to do what he intended to do. That I wouldn't be the 'me' anymore...

So I ran...

And ran...

AND ran. AND ran.  _ AND RAN. _ I  _ Ran. _ Ran.  _ Ran. _ Ran.  _ Ran. _ Ran.  _ Ran. _ RAN.  _ RAN! RAN! RAN! RAN! RAN! RAN! RAN! RAN! RAN! RAN!! RAN!! RAN!! RAN!! RAN!! RAN!! RAN!! RAN!! RAN!! RAN!!!! _

_ COWARD! _

Inside voices laughed at my scampering feet, running across the cracks and winding roots that scratched at my soles. Decaying black leaves and barks in cruel grins mocking me throughout this dense forest of sharp-toothed brambles and looming branches I ran through. It wasn't the same one. It was endless... fathomless...

The further I looked, the closer and closer the shadowed trees loomed with claws for branches. They were reaching out with cold spindly arms for me. They were coming to get me. Coming to get me! And every direction I looked went on endlessly. Despair began filling my lungs, breaths caught in my dried throat. 

Then, something clawed around my foot. Like a whip, I felt a rush of wind dragged out from my lungs as I was pulled down hard, skirting on my belly backward into the laughing shadow trees. 

The next time I opened my eyes I was seemingly gone from the dark space. The darkness and shadows slowly disappear as they bled down into the floor all around me. Hollow shadows washed away into pale lights representing hope. And scampering flecks of obsidian tumbling down into nothingness. I was again, standing in front of the blue-eyed man, but we weren't in the room, or the yacht, or even the forest. There was nothing around us, just an empty blank white void. No shadows. No dark branches. Just the two of us in this empty place...

"You're empty too." Echoed its voice. The blue-eyed man's hallowing words electrified me. My eyes had nearly popped from their sockets, for I finally saw. Mesmerizing blue orbs struck sight into my own... and then I saw...

_ I saw!  _

I saw those familiar stormy blue eyes and blurred face lines had been given its features back. Every curl, curve and fold in the skin. Color and lines etched back into an identity. And it was as if I was looking at a mirror — a reflection. Ripples revealed my face, but it was cruelly smiling back at me.

"I— I am," I said softly, finally admitting this truth to this inner void or side of myself.

Bells chimed like those atop a temple of worship. In holy matrimony, I remembered those words once said long ago, and they rang true: _ I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself when I am with him... _

I realized that I had been missing something all along. I couldn't recognize myself before. But.... but it has changed. It was dyed under a different color, one that was far darker. A new and dangerous beast had clawed its way out of its chrysalis, metamorphosed, and changed into a new breed. And as I slowly stepped forward, the blue-eyed man mirrored me, but with fang-like teeth that happily grinned at me as its movements followed cell by cell. Perfectly matching my every motion. 

_ Step-Step-Step. _

Blue orbs as wide as the skies. We stood close enough that its faint breath wisped past my cheek, lingering heat. 

_ "Finally!" _

Finally, it was able to connect and reach me. 

I was mesmerized by its crown of thorning branches and darkened fingers curved with pointed claw-like nails. I could help myself but hold its image in a sense of revelry. It should have been but that, it should have been repulsive, vile, but I didn't feel anything even remotely similar. I thought it was _ magnificent... _

We stepped closer to each other until finally, we were touching palm-to-palm and caged fingers interlocked with each other's digits, like yin-and-yang. An electric rush of familiarity washed over me at our connection, weaving back together and restoring what was lost. It was an addicting feeling. A fulfilling sense. A possessiveness to have this intoxication all to myself. My body trembled uncontrollably at the surge. 

The winds pushed and I stumbled back from breathlessness, from the flare of instincts knowing that there was a beast, my beast. But the blue-eyed beast caught me, steadying and holding my weight up so as I wouldn't falter so that we could together stand stronger. And right now, I don't think I minded losing myself anymore. I don't think I minded changing if it was going to be this exhilarating! Becoming something different from  _ the me _ that I had masked over myself for so long. Was. So.  _ FREEING! _

_ I AM FREE! _

The void bled back around us again, from white to blue to red, a deep red like blood, then a dark black like blood. 

I smelled the cool and crisp air. I knew that a predator was watching.

My eyes slowly fluttered open, finding myself alone again. The blue-eyed beast's presence will never be gone from me again... It is forever a part of me. But, something else was here. I could still feel  _ him _ here, that watchful predator. 

I turned towards the dark prickling sense, knowingly coming face-to-face with the wide grinning curves of an amused red-eyed devil who has played with me since the very beginning.

_ See... I saw. _

A —  _ flash! _

_ "There is nothing to forgive...." _

And another —  _ flash! _

With the blinding light came the words once lodged deep in the recesses of my brain, now all rushing out at once. They were swept back into place along with all the thoughts and memories I didn't know I lost.  _ He _ picked them all up for me. Patiently waiting to give them all back to me. And at this, I cackled like a madman. My blue eyes widened in the swallowing swamp of realization that had engulfed me. 

"I never said that I was referring to myself." I shot an unnerved smile at the beast more than man as I traced back to his earlier questions. A herd of sheep is exploitable, but I am not a lamb. 

I had wanted to shout and hurl more venomous daggers at the man (beast). After all, it was still his fault for all the pain I had gone through. But, I found myself grinning instead, fondly grinning, fondly looking at him who always had those chilling maroon eyes tinged with a speckle of blood as they set upon my own with both coldness and smoldering intensity.

_ Crack-Crack-Crack— _ The rigid breaks like bones that were snapped, splintered, and shattered into pieces. 

The rifts like the torn bark and roots of a tree as a violent storm tore and uprooted it. 

Clawing darkness spilled from the corner of my eyes as if branches and wooden lines in a cage to one's prey. A skull of pitch-black bubbled from the ink. The masks and horns befitting that of a devil — the king of the demons. His form was tall, looming, and lanky but lean. And he prowls about like a roaring lion, looking for someone to hunt and devour. His powerful paws were armed with sharpened steel and trained muscles to easily strangle the life out of its game.

A cold sweat ran down my entire body, but it wasn't from fear, but rather a rising sense of dark anticipation. 

"Do you mind sharing?" 

_ What possessed me to sass this beast? _ I don't know, but I enjoyed its darkness —  _ my darkness. _

The tips of my head began strumming, little branches had flowered from the top of my head and mirrored his larger ones. The sight of this both dreadfully and excitedly plastered a wide and full-blown toothy smile on his red-tinged dark lips. Soon, a foggy precipitate began wrapping around my ankles. I couldn't run away even if I wanted to...

But I didn't want to. 

Even though the lion was in the room. Even though the lion approached with a drone through my hollowed heart, reverberating —  _ thump-thuds _ — even though the dark brambly beast that had always been hunting me was salivating here, right in front of my own two clear blue eyes. I did not once avert my gaze from him, staring straight into the soul of this blood-eyed beast masking itself as a man. Though, I had done a similar thing, so that would be hypocritical. 

But his thickened voice did surprise me, low as the bottom of a cavern. It was like he was talking, but at the same time, it was as if his voice came from somewhere else, echoing around me in deep reverberations from the shadows.

"Do you consider yourself human?" The red-eyed beast sounded pleased despite posing another question.

The ground suddenly broke, crumbling beneath my feet, and I rapidly sank, pulled, lured through the floor beneath me. I willingly fell into his hypnotic red glow. My body aching as the rush of winds whizzed past my feeble form. My body still hurts. The tips of my fingers felt as if they were on fire. My hands were trembling, but rather than because of fear, it was due to the rush of polarizing excitement.

"Are you human,  _ Will?" _ The devilish beast hoisted as if in rapture with its sharp canine teeth smiling down on me.

A shot of pain suddenly struck through my entire body, and I plunged with a gatling force, falling through the dark clouded fog above me. The name he practically purred was like the trigger of a gun. Gravity and all of its laws were now acting upon me, too much almost.

"Are you human or—"

"Like you?" I pushed the wind from my lungs. It wasn't a question...

As I cut him off, finishing his sentence for him, an inferno opened up wide and revealed the darkness within. And in a powerful flash like a storm, the flickered bolt of dark lightning brought his smooth presence close. I can feel him all around me as if invisible tendrils were crawling all over me. I could no longer see the clouds that were just glowing a second ago. All I could see were beautiful and shiny, like onyx gemstones, dark feathers fluttering around us. I fell, and he followed after me, and so we both fell through the skies and the rock and igneous of the Earth, digging a grave for ourselves further and further down the pits like hell.

Like climbing up the spider's thin silk thread and finally reaching the top, grasping at the light, only for it all to snap and you fall back down, down into despair, into a pit of endless suffering and darkness. 

_ For they clamped down around me and snuffed out all light, leaving me lost to the eternal darkness... _

Falling... Falling... and falling... dreaming that I was — _ falling... _

.

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

_ The Angel whose marvelous wings, like plates of silver, have been tainted a profound dark as black as the void. The murk of crimson and blight of the dark was too difficult to avoid.  _

Not that it had even wanted to...

_ The dark Angel will come with a smile. With its crooked tilt and unnerved style... _

_ The Angel will gleam during its arrival. Its fallen feathers and wrathful wile. Steel to slice the necks of the vile.  _

_ Plucked shimmering whites to the shades of black and gray. It sticks, the scent of darkness and decay. _

_ Sad the Father at the loss of its innocence... _

_ Wrathful Angel without a mask, without a shred of regret to those, never having repentance. _

_ Broken feathered winged one will take what it is owed, no matter its damn... _

_ Avenging, he will pursue what is due. _

_ Divine the suffering.  _

_ The harbinger of the dying.  _

_ The bringer of death to those of us lying— _

_ The Angel of Reckoning... _

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚪●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: (WARNING - References to Religious elements everywhere and could be interpreted as blasphemous)
> 
> It all seems very confusing, trust me, I know, 😂 I get confused myself when writing a lot of the scenes. But if it helps, you could think of these "scenes" as lucid snippets of memories and dreams. After all, they say that dreams are our brain's way of understanding the world around us. And I wanted to try a nonlinear form of storytelling, so I am going this odd way that my mind is attempting to piece. This is the result haha. I hope that it makes somewhat sense, or at the very least is intriguing enough, but it's alright if it's not Lol it's good practice anyway. 
> 
> I visualize my scenes as if they were in a TV series, and these lucid "scenes" would play in cuts that mirror something else to imply their similarity, like a mirror! But it probably doesn't make any sense. Does it? xD
> 
> Lots of metaphors in this chapter like I promised hehe. You are free to interpret them however you wish! :D (*Hint* *Hint* "He" said that he felt like an outsider in his own body) These metaphors just keep writing themselves, so yeah, loads of references to religious stuffs. I should probably put a warning that it can be interpreted as blasphemous right? xD It's like my hands are moving by themselves, typing whatever comes to mind even if it doesn't make sense or it sounds like gibberish. And so, it also ends up with me making loads of grammar and sentence mistakes that I have to rearrange so many things. I'm getting a headache from it >.<
> 
> I based the bed on a Hästens Vividus style mattress. Just google what the most expensive mattress is and there you go.
> 
> LOL! How do you even create chapter outlines?!? I just write at the moment, but I guess it works?
> 
> This was probably one of the most difficult chapters I've ever written so far (across my 3 stories. Well, I am having a hard time with "Serpens' Will" ch.3 and my "Guilty Throne" ch.19 too lol). My goodness I didn't want to be this confusing for this reason that it becomes hard to follow up on >.< but here we are anyways… Stupid brain *mutters* but eeehhh well, I'm having fun getting into the character's mindset. I don't even know for sure what's going to happen next, but I have a NOT OUTLINED PLAN in my head that I try to follow, and it makes it interesting heh heh.
> 
> QUOTE REFERENCES:  
> "Glassy sky above, As long as I survive you will be part of me. Glassy sky the cold, the broken pieces of me. Glassy sky above, covers over me, over me." —"Glassy Sky" by Yutaka Yamada (Insert song from the anime "Tokyo Ghoul √A" inspired some lines in this chapter :D)
> 
> "Hope not ever to see Heaven. I have come to lead you to the other shore; into eternal darkness; into fire and into ice." —Dante Alighieri (Inferno)
> 
> I hinted at Slenderman at one point, just for the funsies. (It has a faceless head so that works out) 😙
> 
> "As you can imagine, those who had fallen this far had been so worn down by their tortures in the seven other hells that they no longer had the strength to cry out." —Ryunosuke Akutagawa (The Spider's Thread)
> 
> "Hannibal Lecter is not your regular psychopath because he experiences empathy. He's not a sociopath because he has regrets. There are things that make him a work of fiction. He sees his victims as 'if you're a pig of a human being you deserve to be somebody's bacon.'" —Bryan Fuller (Bryan Fuller Interview — Hannibal)
> 
> "Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour." —References 1 Peter 5:8 (Thanks Google, again)
> 
> Sorry for my rant and I apologize for the long endnotes. I'd like to THANK all those who came back to read and any new readers! Love you all! ❤  
> \- Cya next time dear readers (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	8. Slept His Long Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can blink the darkness away, but its pieces will always remain."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (CHAPTER WARNING - A small and subtle reference to drugs and can be interpreted as such).

****** 8 ******

_ GASP! _

Ragged breaths of air puffed into the darkness. Burning lungs both as hot as the nine circles of hell and as frigid as the bottom of the Lake of Blood and souls that wail.

_ HUFF!!! HUFF!! HUFF! Huff. _

Gasps induced from the nightmarish realm, and beats with a thumping organ, slowing and slowing. 

A mop of dark curls atop a figure's head held eyes that were wide and bloodshot with strain. His lips quivering still. And his body slightly numb from the sudden toss into the waking world.

The mind is the limit, they say, for it felt as though he had fallen. Those shadow hands had been following him, reaching for him through the dark decaying walls of rot and flesh. Chasing the man from his bottomless dark dreams and into his waking nightmares. Dragging along the walls and floors to get to the dark-haired man. Grating like a saw blade to a steel sheet. Dark claws left a slithering trail of dripping crimson in the living world from their wake. And he could only stare at the dark residue on the floors and walls before him.

His heart rang faster. 

In his mind's eye, the inky whips spun and tightened around his legs and up to his stomach. All the while he could feel a watchful predator observing with glee in his crimson orbs. And he, the deer in headlights. It was a nightmare all over again.

His hair bristled, they were soaked and his chapped lips sputtering mouthfuls of terror-induced gasps of carbon dioxide and spit. He tried to calm his rapidly beating heart while grabbing at the tendrils, but he couldn't. The air continued to be soured by fear as his eyelids fluttered and fluttered, blinking so rapidly at the dark demons he thought to be devouring him.  _ Clamping down on him... snuffing out all light... leaving him lost to the eternal darkness that plagues him... _

Minutes of paralytic horror went on and eventually dissolved back into an empty and plain white room. Like the wipe of blood seeping from an open wound.

He blinked and blinked.

The shadows conjured by his mind slinked away. There was nothing left, but the moaning creaks of wood and buoyant steel, and the imagined faces of shadows on the walls. The shadows were left with only the smallest corners of both his room and of his mind, to reside there like a parasite, until his hunger of righteous fury wells up again and overtakes his mind and body. As the daughter of Zion,  _ his _ roots have taken residency, spreading and sprouting within him a new doctrine borne of darkness and lust of spilled blood. For though his mind uttered such disgust, and appalled at the darkness that crept the corners of his mind, an instinctual urge would always pull him. After all, you cannot fight against one's nature and natural state of mind.

It took a moment for the blue-eyed man to realize that this is not where he thought he was, or where he thought he was just running from. 

The usual swaying of the sea beneath calmed him from the latest terror of his nights. It was relieving that it was all mostly just his head — mostly. But those eerie icy slits for eyes were still so vivid, so ingrained, he would always see a glimpse of them whenever he saw through the eyes of his dark vision. He rubbed his eyes; they were no longer as bloodshot. 

The dark-haired man shuffled his legs and feet out and over the edge of his hard mattress. The sheets twisted from his sudden motion like soft shackles to his legs and numbed feet, wrapping around them as it fell to the floor like death. A long and tired sigh escaped his lips as he did so, and a pale hand palmed his forehead to at least somewhat alleviate the headache.

The break of calm was like the snap of a tree branch, causing a quick and panicked spin of the man's movement. 

It was too dark in his room, like the quiet forest deep in the mountains where no one else can hear the crushed branch beneath one's soles. Almost too nightly, it was as if even the moon itself was also too scared to come out and play. It was barely possible to even see one's own hands, no matter that they were directly right in front of your eyes. But even if he couldn't see well, he could still feel and sense things with extreme precision. 

It's deathly true that his mind's eye was always a dark place crawling with horrors he would rather keep sealed. Demons edged the corners and lions prowled in them, waiting for the chance to spring their claws and sink their teeth.

The man's shaky hand grabbed a bottle of water next to his bed, pulling it to his mouth. He gulped down like a parched man in the desert. And coughing quite violently, as he drank in one gulp too quick. The plastic rolled when he dropped it, and now little puddles littered the floor.

The shuffle of his movement from leaving the realm of imagination created hills from his hungry lungs. Moving up and down as they gulped in mouthfuls of oxygen to force a calm. The water helped — somewhat — but his body was still in flighty agitation. 

Air widens the hollow insides to make sense of the sudden pierce of his recollection. The images he saw in his head, all of it was true. It has been often said that dreams are our brain's way of understanding the things that happen around us.

Slowing his night-terror breathing like the crashing waves of his inner beach, lost in the distant dead of darkness and the indifference of the ocean.

_ I remember now... _

All those that were hidden in his mind's library broke their seals, or more accurately, they were ripped open — quite violently at that. But the dark beast hardly pays mind to manners that maketh a man. 

"How many more lives must be sacrificed?" The man seemingly whispered to no one.

But the beast responded. It shrilled with a horrible chatter —  _ gong _ — the sound trembled in his mind. A dark, distorted, and shadowed grin framed by its bark of brambles like the horns of a devil. Its voice was gruff as if sharpening bones, with gleaming teeth. Too spire and crimson. 

Its heavy feet thudded with the plantar of a stag. The croaks and creaks came from the wall, like the sounds of twisting roots and branches. This one resembled something. So clear that the man's beast was influenced far too much by the red-eyed one.

_ "As many that deserved it." _ The horned beast lets out another dark glass-shattering shriek, something thick and under the covers of the dark whipped with a shivering thud of hooves. Nails biting into fabrics as they were tossed aside in retaliating dread. Cotton spilled from the inside of a feather pillow as it disappeared completely into the darkness without a trace as if it was devoured so wholly and completely. The man-made a tsk noise at the prospect of another one he would have to pay damages for, again.

Its darkness was crawling through his mind.

The man tried to will his dark beast lurking within his mind back to its cage, all the while bleeding the inky vicious dark liquid from his tearful blue eyes.

The spilling of lives flashed before his mind and an intimate color that tainted his fists.

_ Huff-Huff-Huff— _ Widened blue eyes already sleepless with dark circles underneath and still haggard with the residual of leaking images that had caused him earlier panic. They shocked him awake from his dark and meaningful dreams. 

Another tired and more panicked breath squeaked into the chilling air running with owls, opossums, and the constant drone of crickets. His inner torment has returned with a vengeance. Stress that shocked the fog over his memory away, but the sky remained dark with twinkling stars like glass.

His dimly lit hand moved from what little light there was, trudging along sweat-soaked skin and the stain of the droplets on the mattress beneath him. Thin fingers hovered over the blue circles on his face. He wiped away what looked to be water in falling droplets of sadness. And that may have been the worst thing of all — the feeling of sadness at knowing how dark and devilish the truth really is.

"My god..." 

The truth gradually sunk in...

The man's hand now furiously wiped at his eyes, perhaps wistfully hoped that he was still dreaming. 

The shadows within those ocean blue eyes of his were tired. He had suffered from it all... so he was tired. So very... tired... 

Tired of remembering those disappointed faces... 

Tired of reliving those images again... 

Tired... Tired of remembering that he had  _ lived _ through it... 

_ Was the past prone to repeat? _ The man thought with a meek smile one could see as a man that has gone slightly insane. 

The man shuts down and simply allows his body to fall back onto the mattress. The spinning thoughts in his head were clear in his stormy eye, considering things. The darkness seemed to happily sway as if in response. He knew it was just his darker urges taking the form of a beast, whispering the devil's seduction in his ears.

Eventually, a soft sound broke the dimming silence, escaping from blistered lips from the nights of cold and salty winds. The sound was heavily muffled like the sobs of a child in the darkness of their blanket. 

A low flicker of lights from the outside hovered over the man's form as his shadow slumped back down into the hard mattress. 

He didn't want to deal with this. He just wanted to fall. Well, he did 'do' just that. But ultimately he just wanted to go back to falling into his dreams. Stop his 3:00 A.M. thoughts and, perhaps, his heartbeat too. The righteous side of him would never disappear, would never completely accept this. So what else was he to do, then? He had to push them both off the edge, otherwise, he was certain he would have been completely broken. He had to do it...

_ I just had to... _

Before the dream world could take over him again, he could just faintly remember thinking that it may not be so bad to never see the sun again. If he doesn't wake up, he's better off...

_ I'll finally catch up on my sleep... _

Those stormy blue eyes shut themselves from the world once more. From the growing shadows, there was a wooden creak of the floorboards. Shuffling cracks like razors to the skin, like the silent slithering of a venomous serpent's hiss. The blue-eyed man could have sworn he didn't imagine the salivating dark brambles prowling the edges of the room of creaks. The swaying feathers of ravens slowly trickling down with the rain. Soon he was falling. He fell into a long winding abyss. Falling to slumber like the  _ damned _ and  _ broken feathered one _ whose wings has been clipped.

As the amber light strobes, the pendulum swings...

.

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

A dark room, by the fire, and two chairs running in front of each other, facing each other. I felt a tingly weird, as if I was floating on the ceiling, unattached to the Earth and ground.... and falling.... falling through the holes in the floor of the mind.

I could see a tiny flicker. A familiar feeble form was on his knees and kneeling right in front of me. The fine wool rug he sat upon tainted by the coppery tang of crimson, and his hands were full of it. It was.... it was me.... and it was....  _ intimate... _

The dark swarmed behind my eyelids. The insidious darkness inside of me. It crept up to my nose and into my ears. And all I could hear were the roaring tides and rippling waves.

In the few jerky seconds of sleep, I rode down the strong winds, until the swoosh of a calm stream like a river returned, and the darkness bled back in pale light retracting along the water's edge. I waded into the quiet of the stream. I felt reconciled here, at more peace with the jumping fish than I had ever felt before. Learning while fishing. Calmed as everything blurred. Relieved as all my memories bled together into a single entity.

A red light flashed with a suddenness. The crimson rain.

I flinched as the sounds —  _ Chatter-Chatter-Chatter _ — broke the stillness. Jerky movements as the slippery slope of voices interrupted my peace, rapidly quaking like little rodent pests. Grounding my sense back into my physical body. The sounds pulled me back to the reality of what's become of my world.

_ Chatter-Chatter-Chatter. _

Annoying these little voices are.

Along with the sound of a bleeping radio's static, the voices tore me away from my dreams. I roused and sat up with a snap, eyes scrunched from the too radiant golden light blinding the room. Stinging my eyes, I felt quite fatigued despite the morning's glow. Even forcing open my eyes felt like such a tiring task.

Then I remembered, it wasn't only a nightmare...

I snapped my eyes down at my hands, expression grim with grueling expectations. I felt as if I were drowning in the realization that I had indeed entered the waking world once more. The feeling was synonymous with someone sticking a knife into my gut. My body had betrayed my wishes, and a cold gasp of air froze my throat as the sinking realization continued to downpour on my already night terror-soaked hair. The cold sting of those waves engulfed us as I led him and me off the edge. I never intended to survive our melding... And... and now... 

_ There... there was no Abigail anymore... _

_ There was no Beverly anymore... _

_ And now, there was no Molly anymore... _

_ And there was no Walter either... _

The sigh that left my lips was filled more so with shameful guilt and lamentation.

_ They are all gone... _

Noises echoed from up the stairs and above the ceiling. My ears pricked from the gruff of obnoxious laughter and heavily stomping boots. Those people liked to be loud as they took a nightly smoke.

_ I wish they would just stop... _

"I gave them both up..." My voice but a whisper.  _ I wish that my mind would just stop...  _ "I gave everything up..."

A pool of shadows dripped down the corner of the room. Blue slitted irises with a dark gleam. 

_ "Yes, you did give them all up."  _

A shadowy grin bled into my eyes as the thin branches atop his ruff of dark hair scratched the wall. Eliciting a grating noise when his feet stepped out, leaving a trail of shadows that prowled closer and closer to me. 

_ "Didn't you?" _

I could hear his toothy smile.

_ "Sliced them off like a decaying limb." _

_ Swish _ — goes the pendulum as it falls, hits the ground with a crack like a screen as the beast barked another laughing fit. 

That was indeed what it felt like, as though I had looked at things like a viewer on the other side of the camera; an outsider to my own body.

"You're not even real...." I mumbled meekly, the attack on my mind having already reduced my capacity to resist. I had to painfully tear my mind's sight from the images it envisioned, and envisioned, and envisioned. It was a neverending nightmare I could never escape from just by simply waking up.

_ "Will." _

A silvery baritone interrupted the beast's shrills. A shuddering deep tone, delicate with the name on his tongue, as if it were a priceless jewel.

I snapped around quicker than a heartbeat. Eyes widened further at the sight of those crimson orbs that greeted me back.

"Y-you...."

_ "I am as you think me to be. As real as you know me to be."  _ Gleaming red orbs smiled.

I couldn't bring myself to move a single finger, as if paralyzed by his frigid eyes.

He was still ever as immaculate as I always knew him to be. Though he wore a dapper suit and wore a non-threatening smile, I know that he would always be a predator. A predator that was leaning his teeth closer to me. 

_ "As real as the beast that dwells inside of you." _

There is no escaping from yourself...

_ "What clings to your claws, Will?"  _ His low voice felt as though it blew right next to my ears, causing me to shiver uncontrollably.

I instantly snapped shut my eyes, the sudden flash of stinging red light took over my vision. 

When I opened my eyes again, the red orbs were gone. 

I realized that once more I was alone with my icy-eyed beast. Always that devil on my shoulder. I could practically taste the beast's desire to take the final bite into its long-sought prey. It was all too clear in his hunger-filled blue eyes. 

My ears thudded with each of his closing-in paws, prowling like a growling wolf. The buzzing through my eardrums like a drowning rat in a vast ocean. But, there wasn't another person or beast there berating me, it was all just me — me, myself, and my beast. 

A blue-eyed monster that had always encapsulated the desires that bubbled beneath the surface of my human skin. The man with crimson eyes always knew it existed, since the very first time we locked gazes in Jack's office and saw the abyss inside the other.

_ "C'mon, let's go wild!" _ My beast urged me with all shining dark teeth.  _ "Slay thy enemies!" _

The cackles in the darkness chased after me with an unrelenting force. They would never let me go. 

The beast's cage had finally been broken. I had taken that final step down into the dark abyss, into the frigid waters, into fiery pits like blood. I solemnly understood that I would never be able to climb back out. 

Tiring of the war between my morals and instincts, I pushed the darker thoughts to the back of my mind. Focusing on what's in front of me, so I temporarily banished the beast that encompassed all of those urges. But.... but still, a part of me sparked with something else at that gloomy thought.... other than the anxious fear of what bloody trails will be left in my future, there was a frightening sense.... a sense of— of.... euphoria.

Dark teeth further widened as he, once more, slender in the darkest bits between my fragile sense of imagination and reality.

_ Step-Step-Step.  _

Heavy boots rigging the already rickety floorboards above me as the laughter grew louder and louder.

I let them trample over me. I let them prick me with their disdainful superiority despite them being...  _ the actual prey in this food chain... _ I let them. 

Cruel grins mocked me. 

_ "If you hate it so much, get rid of them!" _

The echoes reverberated, bouncing and bouncing off the walls, ravaging the drums of my ears that they felt as though they were bleeding.

_ "Rid of them!" _

It repeated.

_ "Rid of them!!" _

It snarled.

_ "RID OF THEM!!!" _

My bloodshot eyes snapped from blue to red, ruined by this pooling desire to cast the divine, the righteousness of judgment.

"My god...." Bones froze at my moments of clarity, my hands trembling in both shock and agonizing shame and guilt. However, even though my mess emotions were erratic. I still shamefully felt a smile within me. A rather off and too toothy grin full of... Fangs...

A coldness swept up my spine at these increasingly harrowing thoughts. I slowly felt my hand up towards my head. Massaging my scalp, I felt something pricked my fingers, releasing a familiar coppery scent into the air. And the grating of tearing bones and flesh.

. . . . . . .  _.~Sswish~ _ . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . _ ~Sswish~ _ . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . .  _.~Sswish~ _ . . . . . . . .

The clipped wings of a burning dragon flashed into my mind's eye. The bleeding crimson of the red beast's dying roars...

_ Swish-Swish-Swish. _

The amber light faded.

Once sure of myself once more, I pried my eyes back open. Thankfully, the vision was gone now. Instead, what laid in front of me was a still room and very normal walls and floors greeted me. But... I could still see the blood... _There was no Dragon anymore..._ _There was only the crimson rain..._

"What....had I....done...." It wasn't a question. Oh, I knew what had been done. 

My heart began to pound with the grandfather's swinging pendulum of a tower of ticks.

I visibly shook as the final revelation clicked into place, and furiously wiped more of the glistening droplets down my forehead and cheeks as a man obsessed.

_ Tick. _

There was a portion of  _ me _ that sat in the brighter corner of my mind, and that was the part that cried at this change — woeful of these hateful thoughts that prickle at any disturbance is deemed rude. But there was another part of  _ me, _ another part that relished it, that sadistically revels in bloody nature. 

_ Tock. _

_ He _ loves it. I know now, I probably love it too... He knew, he knew that I relished delivering judgment. And yet, I can still fear my mind and loathe my thoughts. At least having that part of me surviving somewhat reassured me.

The ticks grew louder.

_ "Erasing all your memories... They won’t go so easily..."  _ The walls dripped, trembling at his voice; it was a fine stream of crimson.

_ Tick-Tock. _

It's always the voices... The voices... The voices...

_ TICK-TOCK. _

I smiled. 

_ Gong!  _

_ Gong!  _

_ Gong! _

The clock struck the hour, for it was upon me.

My eyes were still dazed from all that I had learned tonight. I could see the blue-eyed beast smiling at me. Its toothy grin and glowing hollow icy slits; its mirthful posture and egotistical triumph. And when I moved my hand, it moved to mirror mine.

The top of my scalp started to burn as if it was peeling away to let something out from beneath. Something that had been caged and hidden.

I shot back up, eyes fluttering rapidly as I twisted around and grabbed the feathered pillow from the head of the creaky bed. The bedding and pillow itself were still quite soaked with the sourness of sweat from night terror-filled nights; those were always the hardest on my psyche.

If I don't wake up, I might have been better off.  _ If I just didn't wake up. _ But unlucky me, I never usually have a good night's rest... And for better or worse, I don't think my conscience would ever allow me such a mundane way out.

More laughter broke my meditation, echoing from outside of the steel door of my resting quarters. It tried to fight against the shrill of the dark, but outsiders would never win. I had even almost joined in on their crazed teeth chatter. And I know that I've always said I'm not crazy, but I find myself questioning even that. Were one to catch a glimpse of the maddening smile on my face right now, they would opt to throw me into an asylum.

Eventually, I did get up. Finding the notion of falling back asleep to be too much of a challenge for me, right now. For the crimson still ran rampant through the eyes of my mind.

With eyes still traced with red at the corners, I quietly stepped up the stairs. Wandering towards the voices echoing from over the rails that separated us from the sea of the gods. 

I casually slinked next to the obnoxious man who's laughing reached the thin walls of the storage room I slept in.

"Hand me one," I said. 

Two dark-haired men turned to look at me, a little bit bewildered. They've come to be acquainted enough with me after I had spent over two weeks on this boat, so never expected me. One of them had a lit bud still in his mouth, and the other puffed out the smoke with this dazed sense of euphoria on his face. Their eyes practically spilled with information easily obtainable for a monster like me. They hadn't expected anyone else to be awake at this hour — judging from the thoughts flowing from them — but they thought it was a lucky break since they saw that my eyes were still quite red around the pupils.

With another puff from his lips — dark smoke having a good ol' time through his lungs — the man fidgets a small rectangular case in his hands while he leaned against the steel rails. A smug grin on his expression as he handed me an already lit one. 

"Ran out? Don't worry, I always keep a good supply on the job." The unnamed man relaxed at having an additional 'happy' companion.

Rather than saying anything, I simply looked out into the darkness of rippling waves tinted by the sparkle of a silver crescent moon.

I already noticed that it wasn't exactly a normal cigarette, especially by the particular skunk-like scent, but I didn't care at the moment. I simply leaned against the rails with them and listened to the now quiet sea. Inhaling, then exhaling a puff. 

Right now, I think I am in dear need of help to get away from the poison that is my mind. This moment has become the quietest my mind has ever been these last few days. I felt calmed. Even though I knew that the help would only be a temporary escape, I puffed another breath of smoke. 

I knew that for the curtains to finally close, the 'leviathan' must be  _ slain.  _ And so I waded, waded back in the streams of seas.

The pendulum stops swinging.

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


The sun hovered over the horizon, and the lights were on. But, darkness had already descended...

Hearty laughter was boisterous, ringing loud enough to echo into the swaying hallways. The boat was jumbling with revitalized energy. The moping crowds transformed from their hollow frames. A couple of rest days and now the entire crew were back to their usual rowdy toughness. Where it had been previously silent for several days, with most of us just reliving the harsh moment of the accident, with the waves plundering one of our own into a dark and watery grave. Now mirthful grins plastered onto the faces of many, even though many of them lost a game of poker.

"Damn it!" One of the card players launched his arms in the air, exaggeratedly swaying them as he let those words that one usually says when frustrated out. But the man was rather relaxed and too smiley for it. 

It only took a glance and I knew that it was all an act. Actually, his losing hand wasn't that bad either, the other guy—  _ Oh, it's the Captain. _

The Captain won because lady luck was on his side. The elder man deserved a lucky break. Untensed interactions with the comfortableness like that of friends who have been there for years. To just launch a table at a wall, splintering it just because you lost in a game is not only childish but extremely rude. I was honestly surprised it didn't happen already with all the empty bottles laying around.

I felt a hollow thud in my chest, faintly remembering something...  _ Friends.  _ I had to push the green-eyedness to the back of my mind. I do not desire the breaking of this moment of peace either, so I kept my steps quiet, and my presence like a mouse. And I really did try to mind my own business, but I couldn't help overhearing some grimly news spreading around and murking the happy tones. 

"Scary. And didn't we just leave that port too?" I heard one man's low voice. 

Ears perked as I intently listened. I already knew that it was going to be quite an interesting day; I could practically taste it. 

Sticking to silently slinking from the sides of the mess hall, I kept my presence relatively minimal and ghost-like.

"Look." 

I gave a small glance towards the man that pulled up a small thin black mirror-like object, fitting snugly into the palm of his hand. 

"Tattlecrime says that the police dug up the hacked bodies of both young women and men here." His thumb flicked up to scroll through the article some more. "It's frightening how close by we were to this sicko's warpath."

"I don't know whether to call it very lucky, or very unlucky." Worry was clear in the tone.

"Well, isn't it a good thing we left that port as quickly as we did?"

"It's really skin-crawling since those deaths were near a lot of the cities we've been." The man scrolled more.

_ Missing organs again. _

"Huh, it's just like the Rip—" 

A familiar face hovered just to the side of my peripheral, so I quickly tuned the foreboding conversation out.

"Morning Will!" A bright young, silver-haired man chirped.

"Morning." I offered back.

"You look as if you've just seen a ghost." The young man tipped his head in question.

"Did you?"

With a genuine laugh, the younger seemed more at ease by my response. He slid to the side of a bench and table, hand patting next to him on the seat. "Saved you a seat. Wanna hear a joke?" The carefree nature of his expression was somewhat off-putting for someone like me but appreciated nonetheless because it made me feel more normal. It reminded me of better days. And I couldn't help but compare it, for Nolan treated me like another human...

"W...."

A buzzing in my ears grew.

"Earth to Will." The vigorous waving of hands knocked me back to the feeling of the floorboards beneath my feet.

"Oh... uh, maybe later. Think I'll go, uh, get some water."

"Alright. Haha, and here, Aidan, was grumbling that you were going to sleep in late again and miss breakfast." He chuckled. "He is a rather worried and skittish boy."

I turned away with a forced smile, and as I did, another person engaged in conversation with the young man. 

When I was walking towards the line where food was being served, someone's frame waltz into my view — a familiar particularly rude one that I had the pleasure of socking in the jaw once.

My knuckles sparked in a simmer at that thought.

I turned, knowingly facing the man with quite the arsenal of lean muscles. It would very much hurt to be punched by him, that's for sure. Where previously, I had been fortunate to have dodged his swings.

With eyes steady, I was greeted by the sight of a tall man with dark brown eyes, which seemed oddly different from the usual standoffish attitude. I could see into his eyes that he now didn't wish to burn himself down with needless hostilities. His posture was also too stiff, but not with the usual daunting intimidation that practically radiated off his body. He looked like a snuffed candle as if a fire had calmed to a low ember. 

We stood quietly staring at each other for a few while longer, gauging each other similar to how wolves would do to establish who was more dominant. Until finally, he decided to awkwardly run an uncharacteristically nervous hand through his short brown locks. He seemed to chide himself. Lean arms trained with muscles uncharacteristically untensed; he wanted to appear harmless, that fighting wasn't what he had in mind. He wanted to discuss something civilly.

"Excuse me," he began in a hushed whisper— 

I took a step away, intending to convey to the man that we should find a more appropriate place to talk. And I stared him straight in the eye. "Don't want unnecessary gossip, right?"

The man looked around first, an almost wild look with a volatile nervousness underneath. 

"Yeah...." he nodded slightly.

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


"When you see dead animals on the side of the road, are you tempted to stop and snack on them? Do you daydream about killing cows with your bare hands and eating them raw? If you answered 'no' to these questions, then, like it or not, you're a herbivore."

"Then I'm a herbivore."

I stared at the taller man feigning incredulous.

"You don't make a very good case for it."

A visible vein popped up from the side of his temple. _ How amusing. _

"Listen," he sighed, releasing a hard breath that somewhat culled his quick temper. "I know that I'm not the greatest at properly expressing myself without resorting to quick violence. I could hardly not cite....  _ my father for that. _ " The quick-tempered man more so mumbled the last part of his words. 

"So, Curtis, enlighten me. Why exactly are you telling me, of all people, this?"

He scratched his scalp, attempting to tether his thoughts together as coherently as he could. He had a difficult time doing so, however.

"You know, like— You know, those birds, yeah! Like those birds that make a nest in the trees," He began. "I'm kinda like that. To teach the chicks to fly, I push them over the edge of the nest so they learn faster."

_ I doubt he needed that sorta tough-love help from you, but sure. _

"That.... makes somewhat sense. But, there's something else, isn't there?" I could see into his eyes.

"Y-yeah... I'm honestly stressed here." He surprisingly admitted. I mean, I could see how he felt because of my sight, but it was still surprising for the temperamental man, who didn't leave a very good first impression. But here he was, actually saying those words. "I can't really say this to anyone else on this boat, because you know. He's well-liked and known for being the gentlemanly proper between the two of us." Dark brown eyes dipped into what I could see was a sense of suspicion, disbelief, harrowing sadness, and finally appalled acceptance. 

And when I looked over into a dark and vast ocean through the man's mind, cold pale gray eyes greeted me. The veil instantly snapped away, and what I found were pale gray orbs that hungered for flesh and bones, that rue the undeserving. 

_ I knew it. _

"I didn't want to believe it, but.... but I saw it.... the trickle of blood on his person." His despairing eyes looked to me for salvation. "The crime articles match up to the dime. I just-I can't...." he took a deep inhale. "If-if I didn't want to believe it, then I didn't think anyone else on this boat would...."

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


Sitting in the rowdy mess hall, was oddly calming rather than stressful. It felt as though it were another normal day, on another normal job. Whimsical destiny deemed it to be anything but.

I had been finishing up my breakfast while Elias chatted with his friend since high school, Lucas.

_ Speaking of which. _

"Haven't seen, Aidan, since this morning," I said. How odd since it's already this close to noon.

"Oh?" Elias perked his ears like a confused cat. "He was looking for you all this morning, so I thought he already found you."

"Apparently not."

"Ex-excuse me," speak of the little devil, and the said young man will come. His smaller frame slithered right next to me, seemingly out of nowhere, but I was probably the only other one that noticed his softened steps and masked aura. "I need to talk— talk to Will, for a b-bit." He dipped his head towards Elias and his friend. "C-could I borrow him?" Before any of us could even reply with something, my arm was already being dragged away. My tray, seemingly forced to be abandoned.

"No problem! You get whatever sorted out bud!" Elias thoughtfully took up my tray and cleaned up for me, to which I then saw him join the group playing poker, right before the doors slammed shut. And soon, his chirpy voice faded as Aidan quickly trudged us through several hallways.

"Will, what are you going to do after this?" The young fiery man had practically launched me onto a barely illuminated part of the wall, off to the side and back of the boat, quite obscured from anyone else's prying eyes. We were in the part of the boat where it seemed more like a ghost town.

"I'm a little confused as to what you're asking me of, Aidan." Prying myself off the wall, I waltzed towards the edges of the railings that separated us from the sea, feeling his anxious green eyes critically observing my every movement.

"You know, after all of this, getting back to the normal, dry land." The young man barely even stuttered.

"I hadn't thought about it," I lied. "I'll go wherever my sails take me."

"....We've been out at sea for several weeks now. What are you going to live on?" The topic of amnesia went unsaid on his lips, but I knew what he was already implying.

I chuckled a soft wisp in mirth. "I'm not a child, Aidan, no need to worry for me." His face flushed red in embarrassment and frustration as I patted his head as I would to Winston. I missed my dogs.

"Maybe it's not you who I'm worried about." His green-eyes clouded by a gray sky lit up in a challenge. And my eyes shifted ever so subtly in surprise, that it would have been easily missed, but not to this young man. Even though I had always seen this coming; the image replaying in my mind as I imagined the similar ways this inevitable interaction would branch. 

An imaginative mind is quite the tool. 

He didn't sound like the same frightened young man I had first met on this boat. Just a little nudge and he's grown, to the point that he's inside of his chrysalis. Gradually changing, taking it slow as his new wings unfolded. He was different now. He was becoming —  _ someone else. _

"You're testing," I turned around, leaning against the rails. "Testing to see if I would drop a teacup just to observe how it would break." Mirth in my tone and a familiar intonation that didn't originally belong to me bled into my speech. And judging by the young man's clouded gray eyes and expression, it had caught him off guard. His face told me that it was eerily familiar to him but still different enough from what he is used to hearing from my lips.

"Will you also want to watch it dare come back together again?"

"Be a sport," I gave him a snake's grin, or maybe more so a mongoose's. "I know you've heard this  _ me _ before."

The young man took an unconscious, but still a definite small step backward. "Will, no bad man would have given me the time of day and care that you had for me," he tore his eyes to the floor as if the next words were a struggle for him to admit. "But sometimes— sometimes I just get scared." It was brave of him to admit that in front of me. 

_ Did he not feel the eyes of a wolf looking down on him?  _

"I just don't know who you are," he turned back up, his emerald eyes sterner than they ever were before. "Who you  _ really _ are, because you won't let me see." His cheek flushed with the boiling sensation of frustration tipping over the hot stove.

Rather than answering right away, I let the silence hang in the air for a second, letting the cool winds chill his consuming fire. My aloof posture as a man with his back to the dangerous waves of the ocean, unaffected, or just simply not needing to be cautious of it.

The young man's eyes already showed me that he was like a well at the bottom of the ocean. There, only a dulled and dying flashlight flickered down below, slowly devoured by the growing darkness that had already been planted long before I met him.

"You're hatching from your chrysalis, undergoing a metamorphosis," I remarked, turning his attention back over. "So are you still human? Or do you follow your own nature?" My voice eerily resembled the inflection and speech of my dark mentor.

"I am my own person." 

_ He's not scared anymore. _

I couldn't hide the gratified grin that slinked itself onto the corners of my lips and teeth.

"Here's a lesson, then," I stepped past the young man, "learn how to keep your emotions in check. And all the better will it be to lure those into a false sense of security." My grin was filled with teeth as sharp as knives, and a tongue as sharp as a sword. "Then, bite the hand that feeds you."

His grayed emerald eyes lit up in gradual understanding. 

"To thine own self be true." He showcased his intellect.

"Are you true to yourself?"

"Are you?"

"I see a student of predators."

Aidan furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation.

I leaned against the wall, overlooking the sea from the railings. Gathering the necessary information for the perfect place. 

"To be quite frank, I think that you should spend more time with Harrison." I continued, dismissing the bright-eyed young with one last warning, one last chance to turn away.

"If you're worried, Will," his words turned sharp, picking up on my intonation. Without even a hint of a stutter, he spoke, "Don't bother. I already know of your darker edges." The young man strode right up to my nose. Burning emerald eyes undaunted by a sliver of the darkness he could just make out from my cold eyes. "It's of no mind to me. You can be yourself around me, as I have around you."

The young man chose to draw closer, stepping next to me to also lean forward over the rails. "So tell me: how would you do it?" His eyes lit up with dark curiosity.

I inhaled a soundless gulp.

"With my hands."

.

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

  
  


~•●🔴●•~

  
  


"Folie à deux." She muttered. 

Steps that sounded a tad too restless thudded along the boards of the fairly sized vessel. And every step grew a darker sense.

"Will?" A low voice treads with the subtle emotion that most, if not all but a handful, can't understand.

_ Step-Step-Step. _

Like gardening, the dread watered by the finding of another empty room, and another empty room, and another empty room.

_ STEP-STEP-STEP. _

Like slinking shadows, the eerie sense of dread crept like the roaring waves, winding around every opened door.

_ Swoosh-Slam! Swoosh-Slam!  _

The clattering wood and steel from having been practically yanked open.

Until finally, no unopened door remained.

Then, there was silence. Absolute silence.

She knew what to expect, and yet, she couldn't help her body from holding in a breath. For the yacht was completely covered by a dull blankness by now. A withering sensation that sent off-putting crawls up and down one's spinal cord. 

When a python and a mongoose encounter each other, or better yet, caged into one enclosure, into one world, the outcome can come out for either side. But a meerkat would have no chance. And if the two predators happily hunted together, then carcasses would run the streets, including the meerkat.

She could feel those red, crimson orbs glow, fixated on the back of her long, shiny silk black hair. Her tight-lipped practiced expressionlessness hid her anxious self well.

"Where's Will?"

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚪●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The "Swishes" can be both a pendulum and the waves, or just one of them. It's up to interpretation. 😏
> 
> A/C: That was indeed what it felt like, as though I had looked at things like a viewer on the other side of the camera...  
> Why YES. I watched your TV series from the other side of my TV screen, Will. 😄
> 
> A/N: (Lol I should probably put a warning for potential drugs at the beginning of the chapter since it can be interpreted that way xD)
> 
> Just wanted to talk to ya'll about how when I started this fic I also started rewatching the entire Hannibal TV series, just so I could get as accurate of a depiction as I could on everyone's character. It was also so that I could remember and use a lot of the lines from the series 😆 I love the writing in this series!! It's so good!! ❤💖 I started rewatching the last episode "Wrath of the Lamb" first, then thought, 'Well, why not just watch it all over again?' Then, I went back to season 1 episode 1 lol. I also sometimes play John Wick soundtracks while watching and typing hehehe. Specifically "Red Circle - Le Castle Vania," "Plastic Heart - Cascadia & Nostalghia," and "Think - Kaleida." It gets me in the action writing mindset. And I just simply fell madly in love with the cinematography, writing, and directing of the films. Especially with John Wick: Chapter 2. 💖❤
> 
> At this moment, I just finished rewatching the last episode of season 2. I type the chapters while watching the episodes. But this chapter was a bit weird, huh? I started in a rather jolly mood when I first started writing this, all the fun in the mess hall was written first, but….... WHAT THE FLIP HAPPENED!? This is just how my mind thinks the mind palace could work??? Lol, well actually, my goal was to learn how to write more horror elements, so I hope I did decent enough. ❤
> 
> QUOTE REFERENCES:  
> Dante's Nine Circles of Hell —Dante Alighieri (Inferno)
> 
> "Kandata sank like a stone to the bottom of the Lake of Blood." —Ryunosuke Akutagawa (The Spider's Thread)
> 
> "If I don't wake up. I'm better off. I'll finally catch up on my sleep. I've been so lost. 3 am thoughts." —"Self Destructive" by Vorsa (A chill but haunting song that inspired lines in the chapter)
> 
> "When you see dead animals on the side of the road, are you tempted to stop and snack on them? Do you daydream about killing cows with your bare hands and eating them raw? If you answered 'no' to these questions, then, like it or not, you're a herbivore." —PETA (I got a good laugh out of this when I saw who this quote was from)
> 
> "Folie à deux" = A shared madness by two. 
> 
> (RANDOM TOPIC: Leviathan is a sea serpent that will be slain by God, but it is also a symbol of God's power of creation. What a paradox 😙)
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> \- Cya next time (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	9. Vengeance Tastes Like Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And salt washes away the evil."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (BTW, I think I'm finally satisfied with the fic's summary now :D)
> 
> (CHAPTER WARNING - Vivid depiction of violence and blood)

****** 9 ******

"Seems to me that this is more troublesome than it is worth the actual amusement."

The older gentleman genuinely smiled, seemingly amused at her flat statement and reaction, but one could never be too certain of what goes on in the regal mind of such an elusive man.

As the man strode towards a soft sofa with a medium-sized toolkit in hand, he tooted. "My, dear Chiyoh, good Will has only just awoken and you two are already fighting like cats and dogs." A smile laced in his silvery snake's tongue.

The ruffled movement of the woman's midnight black hair showed that she didn't even bother censoring her biting retort to the man's obvious provocation. "Play with your food long enough, and it will eventually learn to bite back." She said while fiddling with the harpoon gun in her hand. She knew that he seemed to be seeking some form of amusement, or rather, this too was his amusement. 

A spider playing with its captive fly, for he knew that there was nowhere it could run to be free of his web.

Surprisingly, the man didn't even seem bothered by Chiyoh's snide, albeit rude comment. In fact, he seemed rather delighted by the spine she grew. To be able to rise at least that much against him.

_ Atta girl. _ The red-eyed gentleman smiled at the corners of his sharp lips.

Just as the silence began to get comfortable enough for her, he began to hum — a delightful whistling tune, that which contrasted against the dark and heavy tang of metal and copper. Her ears pricked at the melody that showcased his clear ego and dark blood-pool eyes that saw things to be elevated to art, that saw beauty in the horrific. Yes. That was how she would describe the activities she's seen him conduct. But how does the blue-eyed man see them as?

As he hummed, the gentleman's expert hands efficiently switched the bandages that wrapped around his stomach —  _ clip-clip-clip _ . The bullet wound had already wonderfully healed and closed up since four weeks ago — Chiyoh had been great in helping clean and treat their wounds, paving the way for a speedy recovery. Once again, God's whims deemed it rather funny that the dragon's bullet had missed all his vital organs. Though other people would rather say that he got lucky. At this point, replacing the bandage was just simply an additional measure, for he was a man that completed everything with fine attention to detail.

During their sea voyage, they had made a few stops in between destinations since  _ his _ 'becoming'. One-stop was at the gentleman's vacation home in Miami Beach, Florida, signed under a different identity he had taken for himself. They needed some necessary supplies, such as medicine, work tools, and several other additional items that included some fine wine and preserved ingredients that had rather foul mouths. 

Those bodies he never displayed. Though he was never worried, it would be rather troublesome if the agents, mainly Jack, caught onto their scent again. It pleased him that for now, the majority of people cluelessly thought them to be wandering ghosts, including Jack. 

It doesn't hurt to be cautious, as the experienced killer had always been before. Moreover, he was delighted that his chosen pigs would never be able to utter a single drunken word nor kick sand on his towel, ever again. He will elevate them into culinary art that would be more than they deserved.

While the man continued merrily recalling his future dishes' final squeals, Chiyoh ignored him. She focused instead, on cleaning up the splattered blood of innocent birds. Well, in her lord's red focused eyes, they weren't at all innocent — guilty of rudeness, he would say.

As she cleaned, she looked down at her gloved hands stained with crimson, also wondering how long she would last until her wings were broken.

  
  


~•●🔴●•~

  
  


_ Thump-Thud-Thump— _ The sound of his heartbeat gradually pried him from sleep's dark clutches again. The accelerated beats under his cage, like the marching drums of a funeral procession.

His eyes were still unfeeling, still a blur of faint colors inside of shapes. He did feel that another person was there; he just couldn't make out their face. They were a dark blob, a blob with eerily crimson orbs. He could feel something else there, something darker, something crawling like spiders under his nails. It was a darkness that numbed and spread its poison under his skin and throughout his fever-like body. 

Every time he regained some semblance of consciousness, he would always feel his arms sting of electrical wires, stabbing sensations that poked into his thinning muscles, digging into lines of blue and green. He could already vividly imagine his red streams chalked full of liquid medications forced into him using thin clear tubes. All the more worsened by the fact that his stomach was forced to devour his hidden tricks. But he couldn't refuse, or rather, he was in no capacity to deny. For behind his drowsy-induced eyelids was the image of a smiling, red-eyed devil, a shapeless form of evil that had easily lured his mind, entrancing it with wicked webs and spells.

He was at least able to feel a dull prick from a small needle, so he was sure that he was still alive, though he couldn't move nor do anything. And soon, his thoughts began to further droop as his mind fell into a murky haze. He felt as if he were flying on coursing pain sedatives flowing under his skin. His ability to reason felt halted; he felt confused and trapped, lured into temptation as he fell into the spider's web of possession. He felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut, forced to depend on the hand that feeds him.

On the edge of his wavering vision, he could just barely see a flicker of shiny black like silk, and two eyes just as dark of a color, like gazing at obsidian moons. For some reason, he felt that they would be his only salvation, the only one who he could turn to for true help. Thus, those hazy blue eyes that could only see in blurred colors, looked to her in silent supplication. 

And as the songbird, she did pity the venomous creature with ocean eyes, who meekly and silently pleaded from her nest. Even if he may very well devour all of his nestmates. Taking care of an egg that she very well knew wasn't her own, like the rearing mother of a cowbird's chick. Still, she offered help. And from then on, every time she caught the whiff of luxury, the smoky scent of well-treated rude meat being served, she would intently watch as the older gentleman leaned ever so close to pale lips, ardently listening to any wisp of a sound from the heavily dosed man. 

Once the red-eyed beast left his room, she would, then, slink in. Patting a cool cloth to the side of the barely coherent man's now clean-shaven face; he looked a decade younger that way. The other gentleman, her lord, preferred that. Cleanliness is next to godliness, he would sometimes say. She proceeded to wipe the damp cloth behind the man's ear.

It had become a daily routine of hers, so to speak, to watch over the man, which was assigned to her. She was to report whenever he would seem to push through sedatives. It was a sign of the red-eyed gentleman's trust, which was both an advantage and disadvantage; a long history with the enigmatic man made her a soft part in that regard. Nevertheless, she thought that after their fall her lord had changed. Just as drastically as the currently sleeping man had metamorphosed, if you will. 

Even if many were blind to it, she could see that the two were so intricately entangled with the other. Blurred till the lines disappeared. Like an elephant that dies if it loses its mate: if one died the other would soon follow. 

She started to no longer be able to tell where one ended and the other began. 

She recalled Will had told her once — over a burner phone — that Bedelia had commented on the tale of Bluebeard's bride. Said that she thought him akin to the bride. So Chiyoh knew that it was dangerous to get too close. But Will has shown her, actually more like forcing an ultimatum. And she realized that part of her found that danger exciting. 

To see that there is some beauty even in the ugly, dingy corners of foul dungeons. But, even if Chiyoh admitted to herself that she, too, was also a kind of killer, those two were of an entirely different breed from her. The unstudied and undocumented kind.

Focusing her thoughts away from that thinking, she continued to tend to the drugged man, checking the attached IV's that flushed his wounds and delivered calming medication, securing the pumping tubes in place. 

His eyelids were closed, but sometimes they flickered open. And whenever her eyes caught sight of opened blue orbs, they would both stare at each other with this knowing look. While her eyes conveyed full functionality, those blue eyes also had this glazed fog murking them. 

Usually, the other man kept Will heavily under the fog; a countermeasure sort of thing. He was still, just as a dangerous and unpredictable beast as her lord; prone to jumping off cliffs after all. Even so, it was quite impressive that she could still see the sliver of his known intelligence as if the heavily medicated man could see her, or more precisely, know what she saw so clearly. 

She started first by whisking some of the laced food away, tossing it overboard, or feeding it to the flocking seagulls. It made the clueless birds even easier to shoot down. Then, she also started to not replace some of the sedatives in his IVs. And as she did this, she would often notice the man staring intently at her, a silent thanks while also gauging her intentions. She knew why. Even though the man understood that she was his reluctant ally, he couldn't help but twitch and flinch at every sound of her practiced, quiet, and silenced movements that an assassin would be able to easily demonstrate. Could hardly blame the twitchy man. She did, after all, once pushed him off the back of a speeding train with a gentle smile. 

If he hadn't shown at least this much caution, she would have thought the man to be non-amusedly naive and too trusting, yet again. Seeing that cloud of tensed suspicion clear in his blurred eyesight, checked that off. But If he had proven to be that naive, she would have, then, thought this to be a wasted effort and not amusing enough to be worth her time. And within a heartbeat, she would have just pushed the man again, only this time, down into the belly of the beast. 

Fortunately, he was amusing. And fortunately, it will be amusing. 

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


.

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

Despite the calming sway of the sapphire to orange waves, the fury rippling off of the young man was a slightly sour tang that I was gradually finding distasteful. I attributed that to recklessness to a learning youth. I was once the same.

"You're angry," I remarked, filling the tensed air.

"I am not," he huffed. "Just frustrated, frustrated at you, mostly."

"Are you now?" My tone was mirthful even as my student glowered at me. "It's a difficult thing to be able to lie to me. Very few get past my eyes. Didn't you know?" I played around him. "So tell me again, Aidan, what are you angry at?"

"Your secretive know-it-all attitude," The young man quickly bit back. From the look in his eyes, he didn't appreciate the admonishing tone I used when I said his name. His stubborn nature already quite reminded me of how I was to Hannibal when we first met in Jack's office — almost an exact carbon-copy.

_ Was this similar to how an owner adores a parrot? _

But just as those words left his mouth, the young man's eyes quickly reflected in a turn, somewhat apologetic at the hard tone he started using. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so bratty. To put it bluntly, it's just a bratty thing for me to think it unfair that you've come to know a lot about me, while my knowledge of you is still so limited." 

I gave him a pondering look as I contemplated on his reasoning. "Sometimes," I said, finally. "It is better not to know too much about another person," I paused. Letting my eyes gaze past the shell of Aidan's left ear, not properly looking at him anymore. "Like how I've come to know that truthfully, you are angry at your father because he left you with not just one, but two monsters." I delivered my revelation with an eerily calm voice that distracted one from the horrendous nature of those exact words, but it did not trick the young man.

"SHE'S NOT!" 

His green eyes snapped in pure, furious anger at how I could have possibly known such a thing about him. 

Naturally, the only probable conclusion in his unknowing mind was that of the other party. 

"H-how....how did...." 

Emerald eyes flared in somber panic as I rummaged through the spiraling thoughts reflected in his wide eyes.

"No, your father did not tell me this. He is a noble man. I just have secrets, as I'm sure you have very much in common with me." I slowly stepped past the young man. Leaving him food for thought as a sort of homework.

"Y....you have.... quite a lot of secrets, then, Will." His eyes dipped in caution, still unsure of the odd inflection my speech has taken. It satisfied my mind to see that he eventually did accept that response; demonstrating the large trust I had gained from him. His eyes thought of me as an all-seeing eagle-eyed fellow.

"Yes, well, do remember what I said, and keep your emotions in check. Otherwise, they will muzzle a feral dog before it can bite." 

And with that, I left him to think hard about what he truly wanted.

The young man was to ponder his thoughts in the growing rain, like a wet dog who's lost his way and could no longer trust his nose.

  
  


~•●🔴●•~

  
  


The beautiful starlight of night accentuated the ethereal glow of silver.

The waves swayed quietly, as if in a sacred procession.

The figure clouded in the shadows of night, slowly slinked further into the horizon, leaving a dark-haired woman to silently watch him row away.

The only sound to break this spell of silence was a soft, feminine voice.

"I hope the indifferent sea will help your mind burdened with sin...."

.

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

_ Squawk! _

_ Squawk! _

"He's gone and bit back at the hand that fed him." She stated as if a matter of fact as she attempted to shoo the irritating fishing birds from her pretty impressive catch of the morning.

"Is that what this is?" Though the addressed man was still smiling, was it anyone less refined than he, the man with crimson tinged maroon eyes would have already choked the life from her amused eyes.

She can safely say that he still needed her, she was both family and the only one whose face was relatively unknown to the public. She has the benefit of being able to collect the items that were well prepared by him several years ago when he thought their voyage was going to include a third person.

"Where is he, Chiyoh?" The gentleman sounded none too pleased, but he made no further threatening move towards her. 

"I would think that he is drifting through ocean waters, or already sinking at the bottom of a trench."

"You sent, Will, off the boat?" The man's expression barely changed, only minute differences that only Will can easily pick apart. If he were still here, he would say that the gentleman was looking at her quite incredulously. "Can you tell me why you did it?" Underlying curiosity prickled alongside his anger, and the man often never truly gets angered.

"After all, if he couldn't survive, then he would be quite dull for company."

"I'll rephrase then: what made you want to send Will off the boat?"

"I was curious.... about what you would do."

"Curious?" His dark blood-tinged eyes lit in contemplation. "How curious? Then, would you still be curious as I rope wires around your neck and give you to the fish as bait?"

The woman simply snickered at the thought. "We both know you wouldn't do that, Hannibal," she stressed his name. "Not yet at least. Otherwise, you wouldn't have left me for years on end to guard a foul-smelling old man down in the dungeons of the family's home." The brows above her dark eyes as deep as the night angled into a scowl.

The man didn't refute her words. He simply stared at her, seeing an amusing new light. Like a cat who has somehow found himself now being played by the mouse. 

"Seems that not only Will has a chrysalis." The sultry voice dipped low.

Perhaps, this kind of vengeance tasted sweet as well.

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


Every pore in my body shivered in an uncontrollable release of fear-soaked sweat and tears. Deaths haunted me my entire life, for once I saw them, they could never be unseen again. But a part of me relished it. A part that was hiding in plain sight, but no one was able to look beneath the armor of skin, my suit of armor.

I could feel these urges getting stronger every passing day. And now that the countdown was finally zero, my beast could barely contain itself, it was like a shark attracted to the scent of blood in the water. 

The nerves under the skin of my knuckles itched.

I should feed it soon, or it would overwhelm me...

Moving swiftly, I quickly dressed in the waterproof gear that Harrison gave me. Sliding my hand into the pocket of my pants, I took a pill of Advil from the now emptied bottle for my headache. Feeling the stubble on my chin slowly growing back.

I left my room and went to work.

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


"Who are you and what have you done to the real Curtis!" The silver-haired man's sudden voice carried through the large room and cut the man off. The clattering of metal utensils was all I needed to hear to understand that he had just gathered so much unwanted attention. But the rest of the room simply barked in laughter and continued drinking away.

I sighed.

The man in question shifted his eyes nervously, for other reasons than what Elias assumed. Odd that he wasn't joining in the large drinking he usually prided in.

In response to the rambunctious young man, I had to force myself to stay standing, exuding this aura of indifference, when in actuality, I desperately wanted to punch him for trying a careless joke like that. 

My expression was unamused as I palmed my face, fingers hiding the irritation in my eyes. "Leave the man alone; the food did nothing wrong." I hinted at the abused food being left unenjoyed. I grew up in a household where food was never wasted.

"Haha. Sorry. Sorry," his jolly apology wasn't truthful. "I was thinking that a light-hearted joke fits this kind of mood. A joke never hurt anybody." 

"It hurt my ears to listen."

"Hey!" His flushed red cheeks and dazed yellow-hazel eyes were a clear indication of his wasted state.

Elias was starting to get a little too rowdy alongside his friends; the intake of alcohol being higher tonight than usual. Aidan had told me yesterday, that because the boat was getting closer to dry land in about four days or so, usually the crew would start to celebrate on the job with several barrels of beer. The perfect cover.

Leaving Aidan with the hammered silver-haired young man to look after, I slinked away for the other tables. Easily mimicking their heartily cheerful attitudes and motions. Encouraging another glass of poison down their throats, and another, and another.

_ The perfect set up. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The sky was as dark as blood. The twinkle of faraway stars barely lighting up the treacherous sea. The moon was hidden away by the clouds as if fearing what it would otherwise see.

The smell of smoke caught my nose first, and then my sight caught his form next. His spiky dark brown hair and pale gray eyes looked almost too inhuman under the bleak light. I could see a man with a secret. A charismatic, calm, and seemingly caring exterior. With the matching soft-spoken and humble attitude to match his facade. But I've already seen his true self.

"Took you a while." He spoke first without even turning around to fully look at me.

I shifted away from the shadow of the bridge that blocked the dimmed light from reflecting off my still face. A practiced mask to hide your true intentions before you are ready to sink your fangs in.

"Care for a smoke." He slowly turned with a small rectangle of cigarettes held out by his hand, still seeming unfazed by my presence there. "I can see that you're a fellow man like me — a hawk."

I already knew that he was an observant fellow. A necessary skill is required to blend in well.

_ Unstable. Aggressive. _ I thought.  _ He's hiding well. _

"Is that how you lure those women and men in as well?" I took a single line.

That's what got him to visibly flinch. "Whatever do you mean?" He said nonchalantly, puffing out a larger breath.

"Flowers, huh? A classic." I replied simply. "Does the smoke cover-up 'their' smell?"

The man finally lunged, a hulking fist honed to my face. The man was observant, he hadn't drunk a single ounce of alcohol tonight.

Shooting my forearm forward, I slid his punch to the side and then grabbed his arm, pulling him forward into a kick. "Oh, but I've remembered enough by now to know how to handle psycho killers like you, Jaden. And I will feel righteous in doing so." I kicked up again, smashing my knee into his nose.

The man grunted in pain, twisting around until he launched me backward and pulled free. "You think you actually care!" He spat as the trickle of blood down his nostrils became a stream. Its metallic, sweat, and the intimate crimson scent lingered on my knuckles. "But I know, I know you don't. I can see it in your eyes. You are just like me!" The man huffed with a swing of his arms. "You get high off of your moral pedestal, don't you?"

"You're scared."

The man's gray orbs were as wide as moons.

"You're scared of me, aren't you?" The revelation flowed from the reflection in his eyes. "That's why you also tried to  _ throw me off the boat," _ I growled at the end.

Every muscle under his skin instantly flexed. The language of his body screamed that he needed to get rid of me before I could do him any harm. His larger and toned build lunged with better control and aim than his more brutish brother, but his knuckles intended to shatter every bone on my face. 

I parried his first lunging punch with a quick dodge and duck, retaliating with a hard elbow to his back. But he had quickly twisted away, avoiding the land. Sweeping his leg in a spinning fashion to topple me over. But I leaped back in time. 

Already breathing heavily, the two of us shifted backward, warily eyeing the other's every movement. 

_ He was a dangerous predator. _ I realized, and yet, I was smiling.

"Not bad." Jaden gave a shark's grin as he spat the saliva from his mouth. He smelled blood in the water, and now he was going into a frenzy. Without warning, he charged again, with one of his hands always lingering near a pocket in his pants.

Forcing my arm to block his attack — it felt as if all my bones in that arm would shatter. I grit my teeth through the fire of pain. Eyes viciously honed in on him as I quickly hooked my other arm right over his ear, slamming the side of his head with the sheer force of a —  _ crack!  _ But I refused to give him any second to breathe. Before he could pull out whatever was in his pocket, I shoved his weight back with my other arm that blocked his earlier lunge. Then simultaneously rearing my arm back again, I crashed those blood-hungry knuckles right into the side of his cheekbones again. And again. And again! And AGAIN!

Ribbons of crimson flew like party streamers out into the salty, night sky. A crimson rain that I could once more feel so intimately with.

The boat seemed to sway with us when I jumped back. The man staggered almost immediately, unaided by the nauseous motion of the waves. The thickened blood began to pool down from his ear. The medical emergency doctors would tell you that he was quickly losing blood. 

A prickling sensation drew my eyes to my knuckles, stinging from the peeled back of skin almost to the bone. But I kept my eyes narrowed on him, like a tiger that stalked the jungle, like a beast that faced a foe in his territory.

With a painful snap, the killer quickly slid his hand to his side. Twirling a metallic reflection of a crab knife. 

His eyes fuming in anger, he charged again, this time jabbing the weapon towards my eye.

Reacting by instincts, I grabbed the hand that held the knife easily, but he anticipated that and hooked his other arm over the back of my neck, locking a vice hold around my throat. My hand lost grip of him and he partially lifted and twisted me off the ground. He used that slip to thrust the crab knife right into my shoulder, poking hard into their nerves there that my teeth clenched hard enough to draw blood from my lips. 

The stuck knife held back some of my blood from spilling. Though it was smaller than a traditional switchblade, it didn't hurt any less.

The killer arcs his fist that previously held the knife, jabbing his knuckles into my stomach. He pulled and launched every hit with all his bone-shattering strength.

_ Jab! _

The crimson liquid stung the cuts inside my mouth.

_ Jab! _

_ Jab! _

In a vicious moment of pure animalistic fury, I bit down hard on the flesh that held his thumb to his hand.

My assailant's hold on my neck immediately loosens as all his nerves focused on the searing pain down his arm. Then, quickly parrying the next jab with my forearm, I pushed his hand out to the side, shifting the weight onto his legs. And going back on the offense, I reared punch after punch back at his vulnerable stomach. His upper body leaned over from the pain. Not one to let an opportunity go to waste, I hooked my arm over his head and furiously pulled him forward. Rolling him in a hardflip onto his head first, then spine, and a vindictive chop to the front of his throat for good measure. Quite the pleasant —  _ crunch _ — could be heard as the man laid there on his back, fruitlessly trying to roll back onto his feet with his impaired breathing pathway.

Spitting off to the side, a mixture of blood and mucus — the mark of crimson painting my savage lips. I stepped over the down man. He did try to grapple at me, but with the strength in his body already waning, I effortlessly swatted his arm away. Twisting said arm around his side and then pressing it right onto his back with a breaking stretch. The man huffed wordless pain as I, then, swiftly kicked the back of his knees. Slamming him down onto his chest to slowly drown himself in his blood. He had fallen with a timber and a grunted wheeze of choking pain as I harshly shifted him around.

I quickly snapped my arms and hands around his abused windpipe. Squeezing and relishing how soft and easy it was to crush with my nails as I bent his spine backward. 

"Rest assured," I hushed my tone to a low and dark whisper to the shell of his ear, chilling his bones as his frightened gray eyes finally and truly realized that he had become prey for a far more terrible predator than himself.

"I am singularly angry at the one who killed him." I squeezed harder. It felt as if drums droned and droned into my ears as I silently watched his eyes in fascination. They slowly colored a glorious crimson as rash-like petechiae formed around his orbitals.

He was not as tough as the Dragon, but he still had a metal shell. I take pleasure in crushing it until nothing would be left on the inside.

"Go and sleep." I slithered and tightened, and tightened, and tightened my vice grip around his head. "Forever is mercy. Pray that you won't ever see a day's light ever again. For that is what I will plead for you: God show him mercy."

_ SNAP! _

I swiftly released my hands. And with a stumble, the heavy body fell forward in limp. His neck twisted at an off-angle, and his tongue rolled to the back of his throat. A part of his cervical also poked too far out. The trickling blood at his mouth also foamed like a fountain. There would be too many questions asked if someone were to see this and cause a scene. Swift planning before this led a majority of the crew, with a few exceptions, dead drunk and busy snoozing.

"Let the indifferent sea wash away your sins," I said in a low voice to the now deaf predator who once thought of themselves as mighty.

To enable his body to symbolize the evil he had done, I pushed it into the deep blue.

_ "For God does not show his mercy so easily." _ The serpent's hiss began to ring into my ears. Low and inviting as the devil. "He destroys his enemies, for that is what makes him feel powerful." I finished the thought.

. . . . . . .  _.~Sswish~ _ . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . _ ~Sswish~ _ . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . .  _.~Sswish~ _ . . . . . . . .

"Ye shall know them by their fruits." His body will become disfigured and feasted on by the ocean's deep and dark dwellers. Unbefitting of Leviathan, but he still served his purpose.

Just as I finished shuffling away from the cleanup, a soft gasp of breathing caught my attention, though I already knew he was there, silently observing the event unfold. 

I slowly turned to face the young man. I did not want to frighten him off so quickly, after all.

_ For he asked and he shall receive. _

With a heavenly smile befitting the action of my justice, I looked into his pale green eyes. "Now you've seen me."

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚪●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Added something a bit important (foreshadowing) into chapter 8.  
> 'Sitting in the rowdy mess hall, was oddly calming rather than stressful. It felt as though it were another normal day, on another normal job. Whimsical destiny deemed it to be anything but.' 
> 
> A/C: What an ominous chapter ending. 😈
> 
> A/N: (Apologies if the jumps in the timeline are a bit confusing. They follow this narrative I am attempting to put together. I'll try to clarify any confusion you have in the upcoming chapters, and hopefully, by then, they start to make sense :D)
> 
> Just to point out, in the last chapter it was quite striking to suddenly switch from 3rd person back to 1st person, right? Yeahhhh, it was on purpose 😁 I wanted to somehow convey this sense of only being able to watch things unfold in a detached sort of way. Or maybe, you could view it as someone (narrator) is separated from the Earth, and thus humanity itself (how fitting). Or another maybe, someone got knocked back down and fell back into their reality? Idk LOL! I'm not making sense xD but I think it's beautiful in that I could (on the spot) think up so many possible interpretations. Maybe you did too? Because something similar is kind of happening in this chapter too. I keep all the possible meanings in mind whenever I write any imagery. After all, they say the sky isn't the limit. 
> 
> "The power of imagination makes us infinite." —John Muir
> 
> Anyways, I was thinking that Will had seemingly been conversing himself, or more precisely, with the manifestation of those darker, righteous urges in his poor, hole-ridden mind. I thought it was an interesting little idea that just popped into my head. Lol, My hands just suddenly started to type it out that way, so I guess I'll just roll with it. I'll be sure to develop more interactions Teehee.
> 
> QUOTE REFERENCES:  
> "Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?" —Matthew 7:16 (King James Version)
> 
> "Ask, and you will receive; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you." —Matthew 7:7 (Good News Translation)
> 
> (RANDOM TOPIC: Did you know that in Vietnam they eat dogs? In their culture, dog meat is believed to bring good fortune by eating it at the end of a month).
> 
> Thanks again to all my dear readers for giving my story a read! 💖  
> \- Cya next time (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


	10. Ring Around The Posy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A pocket-full for Rosie."

****** 10 ******

.

.

.

.

.

.

_ I thought he could handle it... _

Through the windshield, pale yellowed lights that were once bright and clear now murked with age passed him by as the tires rolled faster and faster.

_ I thought... That it could help him, in a way... _

Whirring screeches came with the swoop of sleek bodies of black steel. Four-wheeled and powerful drives sped behind one another in an organized line, but their turns were vicious and sharp. Scrapping over the corners of the streets of a once quiet neighborhood. Scorching their black tire-marks onto sun-bleached roads in an urgent hurry. Though, it was already too dark to see them.

_ A form of therapy, if you will... _

_ Wee-oww! Wee-oww! Wee-oww! _ The blare of ear-piercing sirens had been trudging through the puddle-filled streets since hours ago. Alarmingly loud enough to wake several blocks in the darkness.

_ Then I remembered that I'm not a doctor... _

And with a heavy and burdened —  _ slam  _ — a broad-shouldered man in a dark suit and gray tie stepped out of his black SUV, Chevrolet suburban. The word caused him to scowl as he moved along the segmented concrete path.

The rush of cars with red and blue blares already scattered through the streets; most were congregated and pulled up on a single driveway. One house was further away from the others as if an invisible line separated the average from the uncanny. An abandoned house the local children liked to dub as haunted. A death that happened years ago, as some poor unfortunate soul had their organs devoured. 

Some teenage hang-out place this was. Who in their right mind would like 'this' as a base? The perpetrator had awful taste in humor.

The broad-shouldered man swiftly moved under the lines of yellow and black tape, pulled and held up by two navy-blue uniform men already on the scene. They didn't sport a pleasing look, but jurisdiction had already landed into their hands, and now he and his group were sent to clean this case. There was nothing that dirty looks could do to change that.

The bright, pale white lights and the constant spin and flash of red and blue lights were both eye-catching and blinding as the man finally entered past the threshold of the already broken front door. A pistol was firmly strapped on his hip for good measure. 

What greeted him first was the white flashes from detailed cameras already capturing away at the scene. 

The man had to carefully step along the side of the hall, as directed by the blood-streaked floorboards outlined and covered by tape lines and white plastic sheets surely after its details had already been taken and digitally stored. The cleaners were already hard at work for their pay.

"Jack," came the low baritone voice from a latex-gloved man in a zipped up black Johnson leather jacket, "you need to come and see this." His dark eyes wore a serious expression.

The broad-shouldered man gave a grim nod and swiftly followed him.

Upon entering the next room he was led into, another man in a gray jacket and white collared-shirt was already there, storing the scene into a digital format with a —  _ click, click, click  _ — flash of bright lights in his hand.

The stern, glum-faced man had an expression that looked as though he had just killed someone; however, in his mind's eye, that was exactly the equivalent of what he had done. He ended  _ his _ life, in a way.

The agent scanned the scene of the crime with his critical eye. Even though the brown-skinned man was an experienced veteran on the field of seeing the crazy and crazier, for some cruel reason, this sight made his blood remember it vividly. Pooling down to the pit of his stomach that even all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten his hand.

The veteran's eyes trailed towards the main attraction — the centerpiece. The entire room stained by crimson streaks mirroring the petals of flowers, situated at its spiraling core laid the paled flesh of snapped bone visible from dismembered hands. They were firmly wrapped around a posy of purple irises, blue aconite, and yellow carnations. Watered by the now blackened liquid.

"Our guy has an awful taste." Price commented as he continued to snap away at the details.

Jack spat after forcing himself to swallow the saliva pooling at the back of his throat. It felt as if he could taste the blood, her blood. Another death on his hands.

"Yeah, this psycho poured the victim's blood everywhere. Any possible fingerprint or DNA was consumed by it." 

"He drained her blood," Jack remarked.

"Bingo!" Agent Price clapped.

"You know, the psycho is basically calling her poison. Not just disliked her, but really hated her — abhor, disdain, distaste." Chipped in the dark-haired man donning the black jacket.

"Someone searched up Thesaurus.com."

"Thanks." Zeller mockingly bowed. "I try."

"She's poison for being rude?" Jack interrupted in a small voice, his eyes hollow as if he's just seen a ghost.

Agent Price fixed his collared gray jacket as he cleared his throat. "Lured her in with charm." He said in an attempt to move past that topic as quickly as possible. "And— uh, Jack, her heart and eyes were missing." He pointed to the body they were already in the process of zipping up.

Dread immediately withered the broad veteran's spark for justice.

"Holey eyeballs." Zeller chuckled.

"At least our suspect left a little gift." Price shifted his feet, emphasizing the cold, dead hands gripped around the flowers.

"Looks like Wolf's Bane." Pointed the dark-haired man as he flashed light onto the flowers. "Scientific name: Aconitum Napellus. Its extract has historically been used in poison darts and arrows for centuries." He leaned over the heavily number-marked human-hand bouquet at the center of the room, specifically pointing at the blue flowers with a hovering pen to not disturb the evidence.

"Oh, but look, the carnations are pretty. Though I would seriously reconsider sending yellow-colored carnations to a lover. It's preferred to use white ones on the wedding day."

Zeller snorted, twirling the pen in his hand, demonstrating his ease at these kinds of scenes. "At first look," he showed the pictures on his camera to Jack. "The organs seem as though they had been cut with the precision of a scalpel, or some kind of similar tool."

Jacked nodded at his first look analysis. Taking into consideration the evidence and setting.

"Wonder what she did to warrant that attitude?" Wondered Price.

"At least the flowers looked nice."

"Watering them with someone's blood is nice?"

"Well no," Zeller immediately shrugged. "You know what I mean," his eyes rolled.

"Well no, no I don't." Sassed Price as he placed his gloved hand to his hips and smirked in jest. "But the hips don't lie."

The broad-shouldered man further sank back as he gradually tuned out the forensics team's antics. The similarities were too obvious, he tried to reason. Perhaps it was another copy-cat, one could hope. But the first copy-cat did turn out to be the man himself. It wasn't a good look.

While the two forensics bickered with each other, Jack took a closer at the flowers.

"What I mean, is that the flowers were specifically chosen." Said Zeller adamantly.

The world seemed to go white around him. He tuned the worldly things out as the information clicked and he thought about what Will Graham would say.

_ "It's a message. Castrate the infidels, it says. Hated her poison. She was foul, a nuisance, so to speak. So the snake charmed her, then rejected her. Mocking her as if she was just a pig that took up unnecessary space. That way, she could at least be pretty......" _

Of course, Will isn't actually saying those words. His real final words to the veteran agent before going missing were more nefarious, and they had been constantly replaying over, and over during his nightmares. A broken record that felt like one last-ditch effort to spite him for forcibly dragging the vulnerable man back into the belly of the beast. He dragged a man, who knew that this was bad for him, into something he knew was bad for him. It's a wonder why Jack still had work in the FBI, despite how much of his mental defenses have been worn down both by time and by knives.

"Any bullet marks?" The veteran agent asked.

"We scoured the entire place and found no marks of any possible use of a firearm." Replied agent Price. Zeller nodded next to him. "Marks on the neck and around the eyes on the body indicate that she was strangled. Clean cuts in the muscle indicate incision wounds longer than it is deep. So weapon of choice, a bladed item. It was used to dismember her corpse to display it as some kind of trophy."

"Alright, thank you, agents Zeller and Price. We're done here for now. I want the body analyzed back in the lab as soon as possible." Jack said as he began to step away from the room. 

The two men nodded to each other and solemnly gazed at his back as Jack slinked towards the front door he came in. His feet were attempting to escape from the scene. Doing what, Will Graham, should have done right from the start.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ "You are going to lose, Jack!" _

On the drive back, he remembered Alana telling him just that... 

The pale yellowed lights that were once bright and clear continued to pass him by as if nothing had changed. And yet, the passenger seat right next to him was now empty.

The agent knew that this had all been a game from the start with the Ripper, since the very beginning. However, he now knew better.  _ That man _ never once considered him a player, not really. He was only a pawn, another chess piece on the devil's board. The world's a stage, and they were 'players.' Many will exit the moment they enter, but others would marinate for a moment saved for later. And that man had been playing many parts for a very long time. Patiently waiting for that very moment. Perhaps that's why Alana left as quickly as she did, for she knew the costs of this life and death game she unwittingly entered a contract with. Her life was on a tether, on borrowed time the moment the spider spun her gold. She had a family she wanted to enjoy life with before the string is cut for her.

It is no secret that the two actual players had been missing for three months now. As both a psychology professor and professional psychiatrist that made her knowledge highly valuable to the FBI, her instincts are usually known to be sharp in these cases. The veteran agent really ought to take a page out of the psychiatrist's book, but if he did that, then there would be no one left to face the king of demons. For the system had already considered the missing men thoroughly and wholly deceased; however, Jack wasn't so naive as to believe that.

_ "The official story is that, when the Ripper escaped he posed a direct threat to one of our agents, so he was fatally shot and fell into the ocean. Taking Mr. Graham down with him." _

The man sighed as his superior's words rattled his ears. He had been heavily reprimanded for taking such risks, but in the underlying meaning of his superior's harsh words, he was thanked for getting rid of a high caliber killer. The majority of the community largely relieved that the serial killer could finally fade away as a memory he should have been.

Turning a particularly sharp corner, the tires of the SUV continued to roll and roll, uncaring of whatever its driver was feeling as the agent firmly pressed down on the gas. He couldn't afford to feel so lost, not right now when there was another killing spree, perhaps a sounder, happening. The media and the world believed they were gone. But if so,  _ why would Alana flee so surely like that? If they're still alive, then where the hell are you! _

The tires of the large SUV screeched as if the man himself had been bellowing his frustrations and grievances, but he wasn't the only one with these feelings. Molly had a darker outlook of the world too, and she, too, also wished that Will would be found. Placed into witness protection, he had many visits and interactions with the kind woman. 

The image had always stuck to him, followed him even into his dreams. Her tearful eyes had flowed until her glands all dried up. The red rings of puffy red caused her eyes to appear smaller than normal for several days. Streaks that looked as though they would never fade away like an old scar. 

Jack has always adored the thought of children, even though he and his wife were never able to family one. So it pierced his heart more than anything, to see the quiet, little man who had to become the pillar for his mother despite being so young. A young boy who held his waterworks at bay so that his mother could let more of hers out.

The tires suddenly screeched as the agent slammed his foot onto the other pedal. The scent of burnt rubber sifted through his windows as dust particles glittered up into the headlights. Illuminated dark marks carved into the lonely, empty road that turned ghostly at the dead of night.

He slammed his palms around the steering wheel. The curve of his brows angled in a swell of emotions and the veteran agent was not usually one to show his inner self so emotionally. But, he couldn't lie to himself anymore.

For all those reasons, bullshit or not, he had always followed the principle of upholding the safety of the country and its citizens first, to prioritize the many over the few — the trolley dilemma. 

Jack was a man who lived by upholding those who broke the laws accountable for their heinous actions. For several years, he has sternly held that principle. 

But sometimes... Sometimes he would think:  _ was it all worth it in the end? _

Is it real justice, if in the process you knowingly destroy a man's and his family's life?...

  
  


~•●⚪●•~

  
  


Jack walked into the lab with darker circles than usual under his eyes.

"Rosalie Reeves, they called her Rosie for short." The forensics agent said as he followed his superior back into the lab room. His body was clothed in a white lab coat and tight-fitting disposable gloves, with several pages of an autopsy report in his hands. The fellow furrowed his dark eyebrows and gave a hard look at the papers as he tried to put the next words in his mind to his mouth.

"Like putting Humpty Dumpty together again." Agent Price swiftly continued for his partner. "During the autopsy, we found rigor mortis, well established and all over the body. She was moved to an unusual position, as seen in the photographs." He pointed to a particular picture depicting the pieces of the body all put together. "See the odd positioning of her arms; she was dead before our psycho started taking pieces for himself."

"No signs of decomposition," Zeller spoke up. "Contusions were present. Rigor mortis, approximately for about six hours as our killer went ahead and started cutting her into pieces." He changed the slide images. "Apparently, she was last seen with this man," he said while pulling up a specific image on the small projector.

"Last name: Bridges. First name: Curtis. Middle name: Sweeney. Occupation: Fisherman. Want his number too?"

Jack snorted at Price's joke.

"Crab fisherman," Zeller illuminated. "More dangerous than your average fly-fishing." That caught an awkward cough out of Price. "Sources tell us that he frequented bars along the coasts," he quickly went on. "And you know," his hand waved around oddly.

"You know what?" The broad-shouldered man was getting impatient.

"He means that he frequently picked up flings, single-night stays."

"Yep." Confirmed agent Zeller.

"Look at this, Jack, previous analyses of our other victims this past three months are beginning to show a little pattern. It's like this one was the final piece of a jigsaw." Price chimed.

"Yeah, red marks on the neck area of all three victims. One male and now two females."

"So the cause of death was strangulation." Jack slipped a hand under his chin in thought. "The perverse kind?"

"That's what we initially thought," the graying forensics specialist chirped, "See the petechiae, evidence of regional venous obstruction in the neck area. Then look around the eyes," the man took a small flashlight into his gloved hand, carefully lighting up the orbital regions. "Petechiae and most likely further postmortem hemorrhaging. Ruptured vessels in the neck and strangulation contusions. So definitely dead before dismemberment. Our killer doesn't just strangle them, he takes pleasure in playing around with the human body as if they were his canvas."

"Since the heart is missing," Zeller quickly added, "it'll be difficult to give that as the final conclusion. So we're going to need to dig deeper into this, Jack."

Jack swiftly followed his line of thinking. "Get me that man's number!" Finger pointed at his picture. "I want to know everything about him."

  
  


~•●🔵●•~

  
  


.

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

.

_ ~Sswish~ _

.

.

The waves strumming quieted. After sinking the evil man, they finally seemed satisfied at their offered morsel. But there was a fire in my blood, all-consuming and hungry for more. The blood in the water wasn't enough...

_ "He's gotcha though." _ A voice slipped from behind the silently watching boy. Soft and familiar like the floral of lavender; light and sweet like the playing of a violin.  _ "Caught red-handed, literally." _ Powerful strumming of strings. It was nothing at all like the low growls and distorted keys from the beast.

The shadow behind him swayed with the shallow waves of the blue darkness.

"Liked the show?" I continued to smile at the young boy and the figure behind him, the colors of his pretty green eyes blurring with the light-colored wear of his sleeping shirt. So pretty that I wanted to collect them in a jar.

The young man ignored the woman's words, instead of focusing on the crimson still staining my hands. Trailing his shaking eyes until they landed on my own, calm as the sea ones.

"Why that look, Aidan?" I felt pure confusion at his reactions. 

My brain still felt a little hot. Trickles of the viscous red liquid colored my knuckles — embracing them almost — doused in the coppery tang. They shined a beautiful black in the moonlight; a heavenly-like glow, as I finally began to relish the frenzy of heaven's righteousness. 

"I've let you know me." I slowly began to step towards the child. 

_ Step-thud.  _

_ Step-thud. _

"Let you see me...."

His hair seemed to bristle.

_ Step-Step-Step.  _ His smaller feet were inching away from me. Slowly, he shuffled with barely noticeable steps as I stepped closer and closer to him.

_ Why is the stepping backward?  _

_ Step-thud! _

_ Step-Step-Step. _

_ Step-thud! _

_ Step-Step-Step. _

"Y-you're n-not W-will." His small voice was stuttering again.

Heat crawled up my spine. I didn't want to think this way because, Aidan has done nothing wrong, but... I couldn't lie to myself; I was enjoying the look of fear in his eyes, like a tiger to a mouse.

_ "He's being rude."  _ My beast slithered, and the shadowy figure behind the boy shuffled in a sympathetic manner reminiscent of the time she once asked if I was okay. But, her words were being drowned out by the beast's darker voice that constantly echoed into the canals of my ears. His voice filled with temptation. 

It felt weird as if I was trudging through mud and shadowed as if dark clouds covered over the sun.

_ How could the boy not hear him? _

Her expression dipped into concern, as she could only watch and observe as a specter. 

_ How could no one hear him?  _

_ Even though he was so loud? _

_ Even though his voice sounded very much like my own? _

.

.

.

.

.

.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

~•●⚪●•~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Apologies that my forensics, crime investigation, and profiling knowledge are very limited and inaccurate. I'm going more for a story-building way with these crime scene 'scenes' but it's still difficult.
> 
> A/N: GAHH Cliff-hanger Lolol!   
> I like flowers. :D And the name is Rosalie Reeves because I love Keanu. ☺ John Wick would have killed that man if Will hadn't already done so. Anyways, gotta go finish rewatching the Red Dragon now (kinda yeah and kinda naw the reason for the cliff-hanger). So toodles o/
> 
> FLOWER MEANING:  
> Purple irises are a message, it can represent mystery, charm, and an otherworldly appeal. Aconite, or Wolf's bane, can mean caution and hatred. Its extract is also poisonous. Yellow carnations symbolize rejection and disdain. Put them all together and you get something I hinted at in this chapter. 😏
> 
> QUOTE REFERENCES:  
> "Here's the smell of blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand." —Shakespeare ('Macbeth,' Act 5)
> 
> "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts." —Shakespeare ('As You Like It,' Act 2)
> 
> (Random Topic: I love the 'Trolley Dilemma' It's a philosophical problem with no solution. It wasn't designed to have an absolute answer)
> 
> [Thank you all for getting my story to 1000 hits! I am over the moon with that milestone for this story! 💖 This story has become a personal favorite of mine, so I'm happy that you all found this humble story interesting enough. 💖 This all just started as an imagined plot in my head that I (admittingly didn't think was any good) randomly decided to start writing it down into a document and revise it. And now it's grown so much! It's over 9000!!!—Words. It's Friggin 60k now! Holy moly! 😂 Personally, it's so daunting to post any story, like, I'm just writing things just for pure self-indulgence and as a de-stressing tactic from my studies HaHa. But I think I'm slowly learning? Hopefully?? Ehhhh, well, I'm having fun, so that's all that matters.]
> 
> \- Thank you all so much for reading! Cya on the next chapter (｡◕‿‿◕｡)/


End file.
